Chapter 3- Come Clean
Slightly longer chap. I struggle sometimes trying to section it all out at appropriate places.
Do let me know what you guys think please! I'd really appreciate any feedback. :)
***
"All that we see or seem, is but a dream within a dream"
Edgar Allan Poe
***
The first thing I sensed as I became more aware of my surroundings, was the bleeding warmth of the morning light seeping from somewhere. Somewhere... - I didn't care to know.
A window maybe?
It was this feeling- this feeling of warmth, that made me strangely sentient to the fact my pale skin would no doubt, naturally respond to the sun's caresses with a glow so eerie, I doubted even Marilyn Manson would be impressed.
Indeed, so creepy is this glow, I tended to wear long sleeved tops on my trips out in the sun -particularly in the summer. Sure, people looked at me wierdly, but I chose to ignore the stares.
Of course, when my aunts would frown, I would simply respond by stating the glow was blatently indicative of something 'strange' and supernatural in me. And if I wanted to remain inconspicuous, then it was my way or the highway.
Often, they preferred the highway.
But I was a day walker, after all. Walking in the sun was something I could get away with, sure, but the 'dazzling' aspect as my mother would on occasion- scratch that, often- go on about, worked on overdrive, shall we say. Days when I'd be left to spend on my own, were days when I didn't have uncle Em to creep guys out with his awesomely convinient shots of threatening menace.
So suffice to say, dazzling is a blessing and a curse.
I'm aware it was an aspect of me I should be all too used to. I should be over it. It didn't half make it frustrating when people would simply stare at it, wondering out loud what body lotion I used to get it to look like that, however.
Humans...
They don't know how lucky they have it.
Half my face was stuck to what felt like expensive leather.
Prying it off was painful.
I was awake now. No doubt about that. I felt pain. Pain -more specifically- on the left side of my face. That was a good thing, I supposed.
And then I realised I was laying on something soft- too soft for it to be my own bed. Quite honestly, I felt like a jackhammer had found me the previous night, and in it's bid to leave a lasting impression, had lovingly left permanent damage to my brain. Because despite being momentarily blinded, my senses were wreaking havoc with me.
For one thing, I heard nothing. Complete silence. This was indicative in the sense that, wherever I was, I was clearly alone right now.
Strange.
Short of prying my gunk riddled eyes open, it was then, out of boredom, that I even noticed the reddish glow behind my closed eyelids– the teasing light lingering long enough to wake me completely.
Of this, I was fortunate. It was also then that I realised exactly where I was and what had happened the previous night.
And then imediately, with my funky eyes still remaining wired shut, I shot up into a sitting position. My stiff body protested, and I winced, riding through the head rush. My searching hands found something.
My face.
And then I was accutely aware of just how dishevelled my curls were. Undoubtedly aghast now, it felt like they had gotten tangled up in the blades of a combine-harvester. In wonderful knots. Wonderful knots that I knew at the back of my mind, would need at least over thirty minutes of TLC.
Curls. Someone else in this family had curls. Brilliant, perfect blonde curls. Curls that never got this bad.
My brain wracked painfully, remembering the reasons for being half comatose in the first place. And then I growled vehemently under my breath, briefly thinking of ways to kill Jasper.
How long had his effects on me lasted? Why would mom ask him to do this?
Reluctantly, I took note of my appearance last night. I didn't have time to really observe my self or my appearance in the mirror, but I could imagine how my previous hours at the hospital must've done wonders for my sporting the zombie look. Severely undernourished for two days, I felt embarrassed that my subtle hint of makeup fought a losing battle against the brilliant bags under my eyes. They were the colour best described as ecclesiastical purple.
Regardless, how could they do this to me?? How could uncle Jazz do this to me? And why do my lids still feel so unbelievably heavy?
Wait.
What time was it?
Now swearing under my breath, I shifted slightly, more aware of what I was lying on: an expensive sofa. Sofa? Why wasn't I in my bed back at the cottage? That's where I usually slept when I was back home in Forks…
And then whatever it was, I fell off of it.
With my newfound blindness, I landed awkwardly with a loud thump onto my stomach. And as if right on cue, I heard the sound of what I assumed to be laughter somewhere in the distance. A man's laughter. Below me. Downstair? Was it directed at me?
"Ow?" I wheezed, frowning half-heartedly at the offensive hardwood floor. I began massaging my boobs and ribs - now sore from the awkward landing. It wasn't so much that this hurt, more so that my body had responded to it so belatedly that unnerved my sluggish mind. For a hybrid, it was very unusual, very uncharacteristic to do so, and if I were somewhat honest with myself, it was discomforting to know equilibrium was lost on me right now.
I sighed in resignation. Not bothering to stay passive agressive towards the floor, I let my heavy head fall back lifelessly against it- my arms now comfortably rammed under my body, clutching at my boobs.
I lay on the cool surface, my face surprisingly feeling good. Better than the sticky, painful leather. I could stay like this forever and feel quite content.
And then as the feeling of my unconscious dreams slipping away from my grasp became more palpable to me, the bellowing sounds of what I could only assume to be of small birds chirping somewhere in the distance now occupied my inhuman hearing. Hm. Birds chirping first thing in the morning, was...how to put this passively? Ear rape.
Some how, the term sensory overload just didn't quite cut it.
"Ugh." I groaned against the floor. They weren't stopping. To me, it sounded like someone very cruel had all of the world's noise pollution and rolled it into one neat little box, only to place it outside my door. The right side of my face now recieving some much needed floor-time, I turned away from the offensive birds, which by now, I was convinced were actually demon-birds sent to prolong my suffering. Because honestly, how can something so small make so much noise? I ignored them, desperately wanting to savour and hold on to whatever I was dreaming about. It felt more like a distant memory, long forgotten...
In fact, I had this uncanny sense -this vague inkling- it was of something pleasant and real…
I was a child enjoying the feeling of the wind flirting through my reddish-brown curls. In fact in this dream, the rampant, chaotic swayings were of no importance to this little girl.
Me.
...And the blur of my surroundings as I ran. I ran so fast. Swinging, crawling and leaping. Endeavoring from tree to tree.
I was laughing –the glorious echoes could be heard all around us. In the trees. My surroundings…they were so familiar…
I was playing in my parent's meadow. Laughter was all I could here. But it wasn't just my delighted peel of bells, but another's: Beautifully low and distinctly male…"Nessie, it doesn't count if you keep cheating like that! You know that, right?"
That's when I realised I had someone playing with me.
"You said on the count of three…and then you said three!" My six-year-old voice hurled back, giggling.
My parents were lounging on the ground, conversing quietly and occasionally peering my way… but I knew I wasn't alone.
"But did you actually hear me start counting, you little leech?" the voice sniggered from behind.
He was catching up, and I felt the sudden surge of unbelievable excitment, jolting through my system, spurring me to go on...
Excitement at the prospect of actually beating him.
The little girl giggled indulgently again. "I'm only physically six, Jakey. Cut me some slack. You know I need all the help I can get."
Jacob.
My Jacob.
Immediately, my eyes snapped open and the first thing I registered was the monochromatic surface of the white leather sofa coming in and out of focus.
Jacob.
Where the hell was he? I was aware we were bickering more so than usual, but he had told me he'd come see me after I got back from work regardless.
A fresh wave of panic coursed through my all too alert body and I finally awoke to find the house unusually quiet. A silence which was discomforting to say the least.
Hoisting my stiff frame up, I stretched out the kinks and curiously regarded my surroundings.
Empty. Huh.
It was then, in that moment of uneasiness, I felt an unmistakable plethora of emotions. A dangerous mixture of fear, uncertainty, of terror for Jacob and for my family.
Whoever this killer was, she was clearly something my family- in their centuries of living, had never come across.
This disgruntled me.
How could they possibly expect me to sit around and do nothing, whilst I watch on with baited breath as everyone I love either get played or potentially die?
Quil was already severely injured. Did I really want someone else to get hurt?
No. Of course not.
And then as if strangely subdued, I realised it was now or never.
Before, I was careful thinking of my intentions in the presence of my dad. Now however, I knew I would find a way to go to Jacob. If he couldn't come to me, I'd go to him. In my mind, I didn't think this impulse, this need to see him was unreasonable.
Irrational, yes. But not unreasonable.
It wasn't like this killer wanted me, so I was sure my family were simply over reacting.
I stumbled into an en suit. Anyone's en suit. And only briefly glanced, unperceptively at the mirror. And then with a flash of sense and a simultanous gasp, my head immediately whipped back up to meet the mildly disturbed reflection.
Ew.
I didn't know what the gasp was for. I shouldn't be surprised. Indeed, the mirror only confirmed what I already knew.
With hair freakishly resembling a stack of hay, a gauntly faced girl, with burning-red lips, so swollen, it was clear I had been biting them in my anxiety all night, met my horrified gaze. Silently, I cringed. I observed slowly, taking in my unmistakably obvious mauve-ish circles, dominating the attention away from my sallow eyes, the dry, feathered lips...the hair.
But then, I didn't care. Life in Forks right now was chaotic. Letting yourself go for a few days was nothing.
In fact so absorbed was I now, in my need to ensure Jacob was safe that after performing my morning ablutions in a semi-zombie state, and helping myself to Rose's monumental wardrobe because my own things from the cottage –something I noticed at the back of my mind that strangely Alice didn't consider, I shoved a pair of jeggings on and clumbered into a vintage tee.
Somehow, I didn't think Rose would miss those much.
Strangely going unnoticed, I stalked the alluring scent of caffeine wafting through the air. The house remained unusually still as I carefully made my way downstairs. And in doing so, I stumbled into Esme in the kitchen cooking breakfast with Nahuel helping himself to more food and putting a fresh pot on. So it was him who laughed at my falling earlier.
She looked up from what she was doing then, welcoming me with her warm smile. I took in a greedy breath of air, attempting to detect any recent scents and even concentrated on noticing movement on any of the floors above. Excluding my presence, she appeared to be alone in the house. "Good Morning, darling," she smiled adoringly, undoubtedly aware of my suspicious stance.
"Buenos dias, Nessie," Nahuel nodded.
I forced a smile, "Shu-probhaat, or rather, Marí-marí," I replied strolling up to them both to take a seat next to a smiling Nahuel, who I noted, was now far too absorbed in this morning's newspaper. My family knew all too well of my fascinations with the languages. Bengali was a new one for me. I had a four-year-old patient that taught me a few random words and after that, I couldn't help researching it. It was this, along side Nahuel's mother tongue, Mapuche that was currently entertaining me in my Jacob free days away from the hospital.
"I made French toast. Your favourite." Esme sang, as she proffered an overabundant stack full of the stuff.
Short of feeling overly suspicious- too suspicious, I took it wordlessly and loathed having the nagging, somewhat sceptical feeling spurred on by my questioning the reasons behind my grandmother making me my favourate breakfast in the first place. I shouldn't, and I was all too aware of it, yet I couldn't help feeling in her attempts to somehow intoxicate me with french toast, she was concealing truths here. Also, I was unconsciously aware that there was no way in hell I could eat the mighty generous helping she supplied.
I eyed her dubiously. She smiled and turned to wiping the marbel work surface. A work surface that was already completely immaculate.
Clearly whatever Jasper had done to me last night, was still lingering in my system and I was simply riding the after effects in waves. It didn't however, prvent my suspicious eyes from intently boring holes into my grandmother's beautifully maternal, yet oblivious features now. "Edward told me you keep forgetting to eat," she laughed lightly. Nahuel stifled a snort too, choking on some waffle. Hah. Good. I was secretly glad. Esme ignored this however, "So I thought I'd stay behind and remind you this morning." She continued unfazed by Nahuel's inadvertant interruption, though the humour intermingled with her light-hearted reproaching didn't go unobserved.
"Edward would be correct in saying so."
The sounds of a tinkering peel of bells echoed through the large kitchen as my grandmother laughed at me. It was indeed a beautiful sound, one that I never got tired of hearing and often got me laughing, too. Vampire laughs were quite infectious, regardless of what mood I was in.
Speaking of Edward, where was everyone?
Indeed, more aware then ever of the gaping holes of absence the rest of the family usually filled, I placed a hand on her face. It was a childhood habit long forgotten, though I knew it came in handy during emergencies such as this, often rendering my family to oblige in answering any queries they're usually reluctant to answer. Manipulative? Very.
I quickly flashed her everyone's faces with a question flavouring the images: Where are they all?
She smiled a little timidly this time, patting my hand and letting out a small sigh of reluctance. "Helping the pack, Nessie."
I blinked at her spastically. I didn't understand why I had to remain behind. "Whoever this is, isn't leaving." She elaborated.
Why?
"I don't know, baby."
I already knew the anser to this next question, but I knew it didn't hurt to try. Can I get stuck in and help?
"No."
Reluctantly, I took my hand away, knowing full well that was all I was going to get out of her and sat down beside my paternal grandmother. As I began chewing idly, watching as she began flitting around in the kitchen, cleaning up after herself, something told me she wanted to keep herself busy, perhaps in order to avoid answering any further questions.
I turned to Nahuel, who was now taking down notes on a piece of paper. Curious, I peered over his shoulder. He immediately cocked his head towards me, quickly covering his work. "What?"
Slightly taken aback, "Nothing. Just wanted to know… whatcha doin'?"
He narrowed his eyes sceptically. "I'm working, whelp."
"On what?" I asked, naturally interested again.
"My life." He responded, returning to his scribbling and taking noted from the paper.
I snorted. Grandma too, laughed lightly as she blurred out of my sight into the next room.
Wow, she really wanted to keep herself occupied. Noting this and telling myself that I wouldn't let her off that easily, I turned back to Nahuel. "That's going to take another century, I'm sure."
To this, he didn't say anything. "So what is it?" I persisted.
"I'm interested in venturing into real estate, Renesmee." He replied, looking up to meet my inquisitive gaze once more.
I nodded. Other than lecturing at university, I knew Nahuel always had this dream to build himself beautiful estates -an empire of homely taverns to be more precise. Located and scattered around in his favourite places, enjoy the splendours of Argentina.
"What do Maya and Huilen think?" I could only imagine his aunt would want to remain residing in the mountains with her mate, while I was sure my beautiful friend Maya would want the same as her older brother, Nahuel. She'd want a change in scenery.
"Well, considering it's my money, my business… they don't really have a say. Certainly not in how I choose to spend it." He shrugged chewing the last remnants of his breakfast, before getting up and emptying the remaining leftover into the bin.
Before he could so much as step a foot near the dishwasher however, "Leave it." I garbled through a mouthful of food. "I'll sort it later, Nahuel. Just come sit by my side." I gestured to the empty seat next to me.
"Nessie, I'm hardly straining myself by placing the plate in the washer…" he laughed, shaking his head.
"You're a guest, Nahuelito." I responded indignantly. "Besides, your new BFF Rose would never forgive me if I let you lift a finger…" I shrugged; teasing him with this apparent newfound fondness my aunt had developed in the recent years. It was more noticeably potent now, however -something that curiously amused Jasper, Alice and myself every time he visited.
"Ah. Do I detect a hint of jealousy?" he scorned, smiling impishly.
I shook my head, "No, just resentment."
He simply smiled, sipping his coffee.
"Please don't get me in trouble…" I continued. At this rate, Rose was sure to be really irritated. Initially this newfound friendship was amusing to watch, but now, it was just irritating. His yellow-brown eyes twinkled mischievously as he took in my predicament. "I'm not joking when I say she really won't forgive me." I added as an afterthought. She truly wouldn't.
He placed the plate in regardless, "I think you should commit to finishing your breakfast first, Renesmee. Certainly before Edward gets back." He said, leaning forward on the counter with his elbows propping him up. "He isn't impressed with your lack of eating recently."
I groaned. "Well, I'm not impressed with their lack of respect for me." I retorted mindlessly.
He grinned. "You mean sedating you to the point where you were knocked out?" he laughed puckishly.
I grew quickly annoyed and couldn't help growling as the realisation and extent of what they did finally dawned on me. "How could they do that to me?" I murmured as the very unpleasant situation consumed my thoughts once more. When before, I was far too groggy to mull over it, now I couldn't help it. The question was more directed to myself, yet I felt Nahuel's concerned eyes on me too.
Really, I should be furious.
"Yeah, I had a tough time trying to stay awake myself."
I looked back up at Nahuel, a little annoyed that he got to know everything, and I didn't. It was childish, I know, but I was only human. Well, half.
"All I wanted to know was if Jake was coming round…"
"They knew you'd still worry with what little they could give you…" he shrugged.
Oh, so sedating me -with the promise of me eventually waking up, wouldn't do the very same thing? Well that's comforting.
***
Rather obediently after that, I finished my breakfast, hoping to stay in grandma's good books enough for her to let me out of the house. She was now organising her second best silver wear set. "Okay, I think I'm going to head out now." I said casually, getting up. Truthfully, as much as I did have errands to run, I just had to see Jake. "I have to go see how Taylor's operation went down. He should still be out of it, but I did promise I'd be there when he woke up…"
Nahuel pursed his lips, holding his breath; he shifted his eyes uncomfortably between Esme and I.
"No. Nessie, Carlisle notified the hospital and Taylor's mother. Taylor will understand, sweetheart. You need to be here, where you're safe." She spoke, her tenor voicing a sense of quite desperation –of restrained panic.
"Ok. Grams, what's going on? What aren't they telling me?"
She looked up somewhat reluctantly. "Sweetheart, it's best you let us deal with this."
Could her answer get anymore enigmatic?
"Deal with what, though?" I persisted.
"Renesmee, you're worrying needlessly." She said with a warm smile, avoiding answering altogether.
"I'm sorry Grandma, but if you can't provide me with adequate reasons to hold me under house arrest, then I have no choice but to continue my day as planned."
"Oh, Renesmee," she responded, sounding exhausted but equally distracted in her nervousness to keep me staying put.
"I don't think this is such a good idea, Nessie." Nahuel voiced during the strangled silence. I wasn't surprised that he was in on it all.
"It's okay." I replied turning back to my grandmother, "You can tell me." I assured her, slowly sitting back down in an effort to placate her worries of my pending departure. "Grams, please. What's …going on?"
She too, rather unnecessarily sat beside me and remained silent for a moment. Though she looked ridiculously beautiful in her completive silence, today of all days, my temperament was less than taught. As if she sensed my frustrations, "Neyha." She began, sounding unusually loud, which I could only assume was the sound filling the stillness in the silent room. "That's her name, Nessie." she paused. I gestured for her to continue. "I'm sure you've guessed…We're worried." Wordlessly, I nodded again. "She seems to have a curious fascination with the wolves."
"Naturally." I conceded, vaguely aware of Aro's words all those years ago in what seemed to feel like a nightmarish dream. The memory of that day in the clearing still sent terrified shivers down my spine. "I remember hearing something when I was a child. Something about them being distinct to that of the 'real werewolves,' so I imagine to our own kind, the Quiluetes- they're interesting creatures—atypical to that of the actual 'Children of the Moon.'"
Though it didn't meet her anxious eyes, my grandmother's features displayed a forced smile. "Nessie, Neyha has a specific curiosity with the Alpha…"
I looked at her questioningly. "Curious how?"
As I watched my grandmother find the right words to supply an explanation my thoughts lingered on possible scenarios.
Wait.
"As in…she's interested in Jake?" I asked her as the extent of reality finally dawned on me. Silently, I was aware Nahuel examining me from where he was standing in the distance.
Well, this threw me for a loop.
She opened her mouth to say something, but chose to simply nod instead. How very unlike her.
Without helping it, a burst of echoing laughter filled the massive house as I considered that bizarre scenario.
"Can't," snort, "blame her." Snigger, "Jacob's a hottie." I finally choked, clutching my stomach and breathing through the cramps.
Esme remained still, the same pained smile etched on her features.
Wait.
Her expression sobered me up immediately. "Seriously?" I inquired, disbelievingly. "What? How? I mean…" I sat back down reflexively, "How strange…"
"Yes. It truly is…" She eventually conceded. Again, I noticed the scrutinizing of my features. What wasn't she telling me?
"Won't that be awkward? I mean call me cynical, but… how could that relationship work? I mean…is Jake even into vampires?" The thought made me sick –painfully so, to the point where it physically hurt. But then, something else –something so obvious dawned on me. "Not to mention she's a freaking serial killer! I mean, how can he find that attractive?"
"He doesn't, Nessie."
Was it weird to simply adore my grandmother right now? Because those three simple words brought with them complete relief on my part.
Of course.
"Right. Sorry. It's just… this is bizarre. Jake could do so much better." He really could. And for reasons I couldn't quite understand, I now had the overwhelming inclination to personally find this chick, and beat her to a pulp.
"Renesmee," Esme began, interrupting my rather pleasurable reverie, "…she's dangerous. Nayha… is unlike anyone we've ever encountered." I raised a sceptical eyebrow at that. Call me outlandishly cocky, but our coven is the strongest- not to mention the largest in the North American planes of America. It consisted of an overbearing yet equally loveable mind reader, a modest yet powerful shield, a killer empath, a quirky seer, not to mention uncle Em's mammoth strength and whatever crazy shit you call what I do…copycat/hacker? Even Eleazar was relatively discomfited by what he 'saw' of me when I reached full maturity. I really appreciated him freaking my parents out, prophesising that I was potentially the most powerful being he'd ever come across.
As if.
I get nosebleeds every time I touch my own dad for crying out loud. We had a theory about this actually. Dad theorized that as my ability shared the natural premise of temporarily emulating an ability after comprehending how one's mind works... and as dad picked up on every facile thought in a ten mile radius, it was simply too overwhelming for my part-human side to distinguish between every potential ability. This over exertion often drained me.
So now, with my overconfident thoughts about our coven aside, I continued to listen to my grandmother's explanation. "She has the ability to manipulate any man into doing her bidding, to impose their love on her… she can manipulate all five of their senses, veiling the truth if you will, and making them believe she is the representation of whatever –whoever their heart's truly desire."
I squinted my eyes in marked scepticism, "Come again?"
I mean, I understood she held some influence over the opposite sex, but this just sounded ridiculous.
"Nessie, any man who gets in her way…" Nahuel interrupted, only to pause briefly in order to reword what he started. "She has this unique, yet extremely powerful ability, to seek and understand what it is they truly want in this world. Once she understands, she can hide and bend truths. She can shape shift into their desired mate…and-"
"And control them." I finished emotionlessly.
He nodded slowly, his intense eyes taking in my expression.
"Oooh." I said. "So when you say she messes with all five of their senses, she's not only looking like whoever they want, but –to her victims- she sounds, smells, feels and…tastes like them too?" I asked, my eyes unquestionably the size of saucers now. This would explain why she wouldn't appear to smell or feel like an ice-cold, sickly-sweet smelling vampire to the wolves.
My grandmother eyes were invariably apprehensive, but nonetheless, she nodded once in response to my query.
I was now aware that this…Succubus had an imperative ability permitting her to escape relatively unscathed from a powerful –not to mention large- pack of wolves. What a fiercely convenient gift. Something I had totally underestimated.
"I see." I said slowly, digesting it all. "So then why is it, I have to remain under lock and key?"
My thoughts lingered on my family's strange behaviour of late: Why my granddad wanted me home early, under the watchful eyes of my father... Why dad was adamant in not letting me go outside the door let alone find Jake... Why my mother prompted Jasper to oblige me into a profound snooze… and now…
Now, none of it made any sense. They weren't usually this cryptic or protective. Once I hit seven, we all had an understanding. I would try to live a normal life- well as normal as it can get for me under the circumstances- under their watchful, yet distant eyes…
Now however, as I watched Esme consider her answer, I was genuinely curious as to know why I had to remain under house arrest when I wasn't the one with a crazy stalker making a concerted effort to seduce me. That was all Jake.
"I don't understand," I elaborated, "I'm not in any physical danger. Is this one of dad's brilliant ideas?" I stifled an eye roll at the mere thought. Edward was unreasonable sometimes.
"We fear she may come after you…" she answered after a pertinent moment.
I raised another eyebrow at that. "Why? I haven't done anything."
She laughed lightly in response to my rather defensive tenor. "It's not anything you've done, darling. It's just… Jacob treasures you… you're very important to him."
I considered this, and couldn't help groaning. "Oh marvellous! Just brilliant. She thinks he loves me? Bloody fantastic."
"That, and well, she realises a whole coven of vampires are out there helping the wolves look for her. If she came to know of your existence, of us treasuring you with all our hearts…if she knew how precious you are to us…"
"I get it." But there was something else bugging me, "Why would she think Jake was in love with me when you said it yourself, he only treasures me?"
Before she could respond to this however, in what felt like a lengthy apex, all the men in my family stumbled through the backdoor. My father and Jasper both looked at me curiously, no doubt sensitive to the peculiar, warring emotions emanating from me and assaulting them both.
"She knows?" my dad asked as he entered last, addressing his adoptive mother. Though she didn't say anything; her betraying face however said it all. "It's okay. I know she can be persistent." He continued quietly, obviously having a conversation with her otherwise silent thoughts.
"Why wasn't I told about this?" I inquired, following his fluid movements around me. He looked like he was looking for something. What was he doing?
"There's nothing to tell."
I scowled at his simplistic, inadequate response and continued to do so as he sat opposite me, opening my Macbook. "What are you doing?" I asked, as I attempted to look over the screen.
"Booking you, Jasper, and Emmett tickets to France."
I continued to stare down my father, who I noticed was markedly avoiding my eyes. "Excuse me?"
I knew what this was. I knew exactly what this was. Did it prevent me from asking it anyway? Scratch that, did he really think this was going to work? "For now, yes." He responded dismissively, staring with vacant eyes at the screen.
He was actually sending me away?
"I'm not 'sending you away.' I thought I'd surprise you, but you're far too nosey to permit me do any such thing."
I watched him sceptically, his trained eyes appeared somehow placated yet focused and driven. Once a thought entered my father's mind -his own thought- he held onto it like his life depended on it.
"Your life depends on it." He corrected me, without bothering to look up. His fingers were a veritable blur as they darted against the keyboard at a preternatural speed.
At the back of my mind, I was curious to know how he mastered using the heat sensitive mouse. He smirked then, his eyes still trained on the screen, as he raised a pair of pink thermal-heated gloves in responce to my thoughts.
You can't be serious?
"Deadly."
I shook my head, dazed. "No."
"No?" he questioned, finally raising his eyes, albeit reluctantly, to regard me. As if this thought- a thought that might involve me refusing to leave- hadn't at all occured to him. Perhaps it honestly hadn't and that very deduction spoke volumes to me. To him, I was still a child.
"My child." He informed me. Somehow this too, felt like he was correcting my silent musings.
"I have a life here. My first year as an intern, dad! The programmes only just started. I can't afford to miss out. I have patients who depend on me. I can't just up and leave, because you're worried I might get hurt!"
"Carlisle has spoken to the Chief. I'm actually certain the hospital will understand."
Completely dumbfounded, "What did he say?"
"That something's come up. An emergency."
An emergency? Please.
"What about Jacob?"
I noticed as he clenched his jaws as if biting back the first responce floating into his mind, and instead, reverted back to what he was doing. "What about him?" he asked, his voice indifferent- unnaturally controlled.
I blinked, dazed once more. "Well, I'm assuming he's coming, right?"
"No."
"No?" I repeated. I was utterly confused. "Why not?"
"Renesmee, this nomad is quite literally stalking Jacob –the pack. And because we're involved, wants you dead. Do you really consider it wise for said man to go on holiday with you?"
I considered this for like a minute second. "Yes!"
Edward sighed, sounding slightly frustrated with me now. I watched as he stretched one large arm behind and reached for his wallet. "Yes." I insisted my voice markedly more softer, desperately composed. My father ignored me and sifted through all of his plastics in order to pay.
"Dad, I…can't leave him." Not now.
"He's old enough and ugly enough to-"
"Dad!" I protested, slowly losing my patience now.
Somewhere in the background I heard Nahuel stifle a laugh. Dad ignored this and took in another long, unnecessary breath- as if he were choosing how to best word something. Finally, he landed on: "He can take care of himself, Renesmee."
Really, I knew these words, like so many others from my family, we intended to kill any qualms I may have, to placate me. And as much as I loved them for it, it was frustrating all the same. Because nothing could erode away these unreasonable sharp stabbing pains I felt everytime I thought of him. Knowing he was out there, potentially being influnced by this thing was slowly killing me, and I honestly didn't think this was an exaggeration.
"That's beside the point." I finally answered in a deadpan voice, devoid of any feeling.
"Is it? I thought the general foundations of your concern were for his safety? Ergo, you didn't want to leave."
Something in me snapped and I couldn't reign in my thoughts anymore. It's not as easy as that, and you know it.
He merely shook his head in disdain, which did very little in apprehending any possible tantrum threatenting to boil over. at the back of my mind, I understood what he was trying to do for me, but really, what would stop her from finding me in France?
"He's not going, Nessie and that's final."
Slowly, I crossed my arms over my chest. "Fine. Then I choose not to go either, please."
He rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed with my childish display of aversion. "I'm sure you can live without Jake for a few weeks."
I heard his words, but it felt like I hadn't quite registered them yet. "Weeks?!" I finally shrieked. I wasn't aware it was going to be weeks.
"Ness, turn it down an octave. We'll be back once this is all under the water." Heatedly, I turned to face my bear-like uncle -the traitor.
"He's hardly a traitor."
Emmett laughed, his convivial features turning back and forth between dad and I, evidently amused by our mini spat. I tried to ignore the foundations of the house vibrating with the infectious sound. "Nice, Ness." I continued to scowl at him. "Though, I think Edward's being optimistic. It could be months -depending on how long it'll take them to stop her." As I was reeling from this news, he turned to Dad. "I still don't see why me and Jazz have to go, and you don't."
"We've been over this, Em. Because I need to know what's going on in her head…"
Or maybe the prospect of leaving mom is just too much?
He ignored my thoughts.
"Dad, here's a crazy thought, that I'm just going to put out there." Edward looked up, an eyebrow raised in sceptical intrigue, "Don't you think you're overreacting just a tad?"
Though he wasn't impressed, both Jasper and Emmett -who were planning out our trip with maps and leaflets that came out of nowhere- struggled to choke back a guffaw.
Nahuel bit his lip to stop himself, feigning interest in more real estate –this time on his laptop.
"You're going, and that's final." Edward said in quiet severity.
With his tyrant-esque words, I got up to leave. "Fine."
After three weeks, why was this happening now?
"Nessie," he called after me. I paused and reluctantly turned to regard him once more. Every inch of me was now stiff with a resentment I wish I wasn't feeling. "I really don't have time for this. Please..."
Time for what? Like a good little girl, I'm not saying anything. Like a good little girl, I'm not even doing anything. I'm just...existing.
For the second time that afternoon, I watched as Edward drew in another unnecessary long breath. Now the loving daughter in me wanted to assume it was simply out of force of habbit. The sceptical jerk however, recognised the tell tail signs of barely-tolerating-the-lashings-of-residual-teen-angst. "Just, please -for once, without needing to question anything- can you do as you're told?"
My mouth fell open. 'For once?' When -in my ten years of living- have you known me to ever go against you or mom? You're asking me to leave this country. To leave my life for God knows how long...
"I understand how hard it's going to be, honey. I really do."
Really? I narrowed my eyes, eyeing my father sceptically. Have you considered that maybe I can help more by staying?
It was a long shot, but I felt I had to try.
"You'll get to see Jacob in three weeks. I promise." He replied, pretending he hadn't heard my last thought.
I sighed a little dejectedly. Typical. "Dad, please don't do this to me." I implored, neglecting to follow through with the initial plan of exploding in his face. My last ditch attempt now involved begging.
"Edward, perhaps we are thinking too severely about the situation." Grandma piped up.
Thank you! I thought, appreciatively.
Without really surprising me, my father chose to ignore my thoughts of gratitude. "I really don't think so." He said to her, "I heard her thoughts, Esme."
As I listened in, my brows knotted together in a mixture of curiosity and confusion. I was distracted now: 'Her thoughts?' He had the chance to get into her mind?
He turned to look at me then, "For a short time before she began confusing me."
By 'confusing,' I could only assume he meant her influence got to him too and I couldn't help feeling this was in fact the real reason why he was now getting so freaked out.
"I'm sorry if you think I'm the bad guy in all this, Nessie. I just… we can't risk you getting hurt."
I don't think that. I just don't want to go.
He let out a frustrated sigh. "It's not up for debate. You're leaving in a few hours -nine to be exact. The closest I could get at this short notice."
"It leaves from Sea-Tac, right?" Jasper asked, checking his watch and gathering a few more maps and brochures.
His conflicting eyes were unwavering from my own as he nodded mechanically in responce to his brother's inquiry. "Alice has packed you a suitcase. It's in your room. I suggest you add anything personal she's missed, though I highly doubt that's even possible." He tried to reassure me then, with his familiar lop-sided smile.
I stared at him, unmoving and unseeing. "You'll be able to say your goodbyes to your mother and aunts when they come back…"
As I registered these words, I resisted the painful need to sob now. This was really happening. My childhood nightmares brought to life. The fat tears, formally glazing my eyes, had minds of their own now. They had filled to the brim and threatened to fall at any moment. Actually, with my vision impaired the way it was, I wasn't even aware of my dad's comforting form standing so close to my own now.
"Don't cry, baby." I heard him whisper softly. I didn't miss the silent anguish in his voice. He came closer towards me, his hand reaching out hesitantly. "You'll be back before you know it." He assured, kissing my hair and enveloping me in a soft yet urgent hug. I noticed he was careful not to touch my skin directly and this very detail hurt me.
Slowly, I shook my head against his hard, ice-cold chest, the tears now raining down. Something awful occured to me then. Why hadn't anyone mentioned Jake? Where was his exact location right now?
"Renesmee-" Edward began to try again, his voice even more gentil now. I couldn't understand it, but somehow this seemed to make things worse. "It won't be long-"
"Don't." I mewled into his shirt. "Just don't, dad." I couldn't bear being away as it was. To have that hope that I'd be returning sooner rather than later, when there was a very real possibility that it might be considerably longer by the looks of it, regardless of a whole coven of female vampires looking for her right now- of a wolf pack scouring every inch for her- I just couldn't have that hope.
And then there was Jacob…
"He'll be fine, Ness."
"It's not going to be for a few weeks, is it?" I asked, looking up.
He sighed against my hair before wiping my tears away. If I was honest with myself, I felt utterly broken -hurt that he hadn't come to see me. To let me know he was safe. And I knew this unreasonable feeling of abandonment was just that –unreasonable. After all, he was out there… tracking a killer who had a sickening, devastating curiosity with him and him alone. But why him?
When Esme was explaining before, I wasn't joking when I said Jacob was a hottie. I understood at an early pubescent age that Jacob Black had the potential to leave little over half the female population of the Pacific Northwest hankering for him. And this wasn't an exaggeration. Countless times, I would witness with curious eyes as an oblivious Jacob would try and snub overly keen customers at his workplace. Countless times I observed him being hit on and not quite understanding at the time why they acted the way they did around him. It was strange and equally discomforting for me to watch pretty girls lean so casually against the hood of their cars, batting their mascara clumped lashes profusely. Back then, I thought very little on this because honestly, they looked as if they were suffering from an eye tic. It was actually Jacob's behaviour that intrigued me if anything. Occasionally he would peer over to where Embry and I would stand fooling around and his puppy dog eyes would desperately search for my attention. Indeed, I always got the impression he was far more interested in our thumb war rather than the smexy ladies standing before him, tugging at his collar for some attention. I put this down to him just not being interested. It did bother me on a totally subconscious level, even back then, that one day he might possibly say yes to someone though. And that thought alone made me feel sick for an indefinate number of reasons. For one, I remember I never once felt the need to question his choices back then. I never once asked why he declined potentially hot dates, why he would continuously sweep to one side any outright flirting. Sometimes, it felt like his obliviousness was genuine and perhaps it was.
My thoughts drifted back to this killer and her unnatural infatuation for him. I could now understand. Of course I could. Mentally, I could see exactly why...
Those thick dorsal muscles laxing everytime he chose to laze around with me...abs I would often notice in my brazen ogling, rippling so deliciously everytime he laughed... Of course there was more to Jake than just his perfect, sculpted-by-the-Gods- body, but the hard-to-ignore crazy definition across the gleaming expanse of his chest made it difficult for me sometimes think anything. I imagined it all pressed flush against my body, those massive guns he called arms wrapped tightly around me… I wasn't afraid to admit he was perfection.
Perfection.
My mind went elsewhere then, and I couldn't stop the mental images drifting into my mind's eye... That sweet, sweet detail God seemed to perfect on him: the lush V that led down to his-
Someone cleared their throat loudly- dramatically, instantly snapping me back to reality. How strange it felt to forget where I was and what was currently happening to my life. I tilted my head up slightly to meet the throat-clearer who was visibly stiffening at the vivid train my thoughts were leading me. Had I not been so humiliated right now, the look ony my father's face would've made me laugh. It was priceless. And yet still, it was remarkable how I'd totally forgotten he was there- holding me, trying to soothe me. Very unlike me. It took all of my will power to ignore the obnoxious feel of embarassment wash over me, cauterizing beneath my face and neck as a result. I began to silently chastise myself and wanted to get back to the crucial point at hand.
In deed, Jacob was…well… huh. Jacob. Mmm. Erm. Through my peripheral, Jasper too, looked curiously my way, a mixture of amusement and utter disgust harbouring his usually quaint features. I suppose these are feelings you don't want your niece to ever feel so…unabashedly?
Inwardly cringing, I began to backtrack. But surely to a vampire, he –Jacob- would be repulsive, regardless of his rebellious god-like appearence? I suppose her ability was to supply an image –a representation of whatever he desired. Knowing Jake, I suspected Kate Beckinsale. Or maybe Mandy Moore actually.
Dad snorted. It was a strange sound because it seemed he was still recovering from my prior thoughts involving Jacob's body. It must've caught him off guard, which was understandable.
Indeed, ignoring the involuntary snooping, I simply didn't understand her attraction to him. I mean, I understood. Very well actually.
Dad almost let out another strange noise.
...But I didn't understand how it could be possible for her, due to the obvious barriers discerning them as natural enemies.
Not that I imagine Jake to ever be that shallow. So I suspect race wouldn't even enter as a factor to overcome for him. In fact, I remember him telling me once that it simply wouldn't matter to him -that love was something we should always hold onto –like holding onto dear life- in whatever form it came in. Indeed, I was confident -if it was ever necessary; he'd fight for whomever he fell for. Of that I was certain. Then of course there was something that bothered me. Why was my family so convinced she was coming after me of all people?
"We have our reasons..." My father murmured against my hair, an intangible quality to his I was sure, that were mainly due to my family helping out the packs. He sighed in reticence, and eventually let me go to return to his laptop. "I suggest you get your things in order…" he added rather sullenly now.
I tried not to let the sudden shift in mood get to me and reluctantly nodded, heading my way up the stairs. My thoughts were still undeniably fixed on the strange circumstance surrounding us. Surely it was imperative for them to bear each other in order to mate? I inwardly shuddered at the idea of Jacob with a Vampire—a bloodsucker as he usually referred to them. It just wouldn't make sense for him to be attracted to one, regardless of her having a convenient aptitude in supplying men with whatever the hell they wanted: their innermost could do so much better.
And then my thoughts were on the Succubus again: Regardless of how close Jake and I were –are- I'd say he was just as close to mom actually, I didn't think that was enough reason to come for me. I didn't understand. The only other reason I could come up with in order to justify why she would want me, was that if she was so crazily besotted with Jake, only to find that it was actually me he wanted.
My body fell rigid and I paused midstep at that thought.
But then that was simply ridiculous…
Jake has quite literally been everything I could ever ask for in life. When I needed a brother, he was there. When I needed a best friend, he was there, too. When I needed a shoulder to cry on or needed cheering up, when I felt scared, much to my parent's bewilderment, he was the only one who could console me. He was that fixed variable in my life- that addiction I was only now aware was an addiction.
Though I knew all too well that the thing about addiction is, it never ends well.
From the very beginning, he's been there and I'd like to think I've been there for him, too. But now, to think that he would want me in that way… I just don't think it was possible or plausible. Indeed, vanquishing the wayward thoughts to the back of my mind, I scanned what was previously my father's pre-bella room, pointlessly lost in a reverie where the impossible could very well be possible. My eyes began to absently look for anything Alice may've somehow missed and a part of me- the unreasonable, perverse part, felt indifferent by the prospect.
Because I knew that with unreasonable need -this addiction that I had for him, comes this all consuming high and eventually whatever it is that gets us high...stops feeling good and starts to hurt. I was entirely dependent on Jacob, to the point where even I knew it was an unhealthy necessitate to be near him.
Still, they say you can't kick the habit until you hit rock bottom. But how do you come to know when you're there?
It was like the ultimate catch twenty-two. I wanted him to be happy, truly I did. But did I want him to be with anyone?
I felt empty without him. And now he was going to get everything he could ever want, in the perfect woman. Albeit, she's a killer, but I'm sure for Jake, she'd stop. I shook my head at the unlikely, yet worryingly equally plausible idea. Could Jake really want that? A killer? No.
It was then, as I scanned my room, I noticed a photo Seth had taken long ago of Jake and I, was missing off of my desk. This could quite possibly be my rock bottom. It was a photo taken three years ago on my seventh birthday in New Hampshire. I kept that photo with me all the time.
Slightly confused, I took a few cautious steps towards my desk. Had someone been in my room? I couldn't detect any unfamiliar scents. Just my parent's… aunts' …and Nahuel.
Though Nahual couldn't possibly…
Overriding the absurd thought of Nahuel taking my photo for no reason, I was stumped. I mean, why would he?
I shook my head as I continued scanning my room for anything else misplaced. I was aware that due to my bizarre capabilities in cognitive thinking, I was certain I left it beside my bed…
So not long after that, I desperately sifted through my belongings -belongings Alice had already kindly packed for me, hoping to find it.
Fifteen minutes and forty-three seconds later – and with my room a veritable mess, turned upside down: Nothing.
I knew full well Ali would've made it obvious where she put that picture. She knew how much it meant to me. It was taken before I left to go to college. So now, where was it?
Peering out of my window in quiet contemplation, I observed the heavy rain beating down hard against the massive window wall. I wasn't aware it was raining so heavily again. The flitting leaves were struggling with the powerful winds…
The remarkably dense foliage was all I could see at first. Surrounding the house made our home almost invisible –a sanctuary where we didn't have to hide who we really were.
A brilliant flash of lightening momentarily lit the chaotic room. I continued to stand, mesmerised by the torrential rain. Where had my sun gone?
My eyes scanned the trees, an unconscious instinctual habit that was apparently in our nature as Vampires. Trees…more trees…the river… grey fur…
Wait. I narrowed my eyes on the darting form of grey. No animal could move like that. It's beautiful, fluid movements could only belong to that of a wolf.
Embry?
Was Jake making some of the pack patrol around the house?
A pang of longing enveloped me at the mere thought of him. Desperately, I tried to track down the familiar pelt of grey I easily identified before. Where was he? Where did he go?
Amidst the branches, my inherently capable eyes observed a pair of intoxicating red lips… a precarious smirk… etched on the face of a gloriously pale, fiery haired woman. My dry mouth hung open and I couldn't help drinking her in.
Fearing I was imagining her, I processed what was happening a little too slowly. My wide eyes were fixed. She didn't look away either. She was stunning.
Great... I thought at the back of my mind. Just marvellous...
Indeed, momentarily floored as I was by her beauty, I made the mistake of blinking spastically.
And then she was gone.
End notes: Come Clean –Hillary Duff. The video for this single was my inspiration. Nessie looking out at the window at the rain etc. you get the picture. :D
Sea-Tac is short for Seattle Tacoma Airport.
I just wanted to thank my astute beta pinkpower, who never fails to make me think about my choices. Though i've had this stuff written out 'eons ago,' it takes time to reread through my crap and sometimes i just don't have the time or the patience. Seems like living a productive life just gets in the way! (growing up actually sucks)
Also, the fic's name may need an overhaul as we both think it's cheesey. But then I do love cheese.
RnR, please! ;)
xoxo
