Disclaimer:
This world and most of the characters belong to Stephanie Meyers. My main character Cricket, is inspired by Tara Bray Smith's character Nix from her novel Betwixt.
I'm writing a fairy power into a vampire story for my own amusement. Your welcome.
I need to get out of here, but first things first. I need to clean up and as long as I'm already imposing…
I chugged the last of my milk and put the glass back on the tray and stepped out into the hall. I wandered slowly to the stairs pausing to check out the odd painting here and there. As I climbed downwards and found myself in another hall I couldn't help but notice the size of the house, the work that was put into it, the things inside it… Whoever these people were, they were rich. Ah, the irony.
The next flight of stairs led me to a big pale open room with a glistening grand piano sitting on a platform. I eyed the beautiful instrument appreciatively for a second before turning my eyes to the couch. Edward sat there with his arm around a beautiful young woman with dark brown hair. She must be Bella. Looks like in this family beauty is what counts the most. Next to Bella sat another pale beauty, but this one was huge. He looked up at me and grinned at me.
"How are you feeling?" He asked.
"Fine… Not to be rude but how many people make up your family?" I asked.
They seemed to keep crawling out of the woodwork.
The big guy chuckled before answering. "Ten… We like to keep our numbers even."
Then he winked. I felt like I was missing a joke but I couldn't find the punch line.
"Cricket?" Bella asked with a voice sweeter than a church bell.
I switched my gaze to her.
"Do you need help with something?"
"Kitchen?" I asked.
She pointed.
When I walked into the kitchen I was a little surprised. Everything was shining as if it had never been used but another serving tray loaded with pancakes, eggs, and bacon sat on the counter top as a contradiction. Carlisle was in there, along with Nahuel and two more new faces. A woman with caramel colored hair stood by the sink and a gorgeous child with bronze ringlets sat at the kitchen island playing with her food. They all looked at me and smiled when I walked in, but it was the child my eyes lingered on. Her resemblance to the couple on the couch was unmistakable, with the exception of her eyes. In fact, now that I thought about it, everyone here except me, the little girl, and Nahuel had gold eyes.
"Here, let me take that," The woman said, stepping forward to claim my tray.
"Cricket, this is my wife, Esme," Carlisle introduced.
Oh. The cook. "The pancakes were excellent." And they were. "Thank you so much."
"Your welcome, dear," Esme answered smiling over her shoulder at me.
"I hate to ask for a favor, when you've already helped me so much…"
"What do you need?" Carlisle asked.
"A shower? And I'd like to run my clothes through a washer and drier?"
"Of course. Nessie?"
The little girl looked up.
"If your done, why don't you show Cricket where she can clean up?"
"Okay," Nessie answered happily, pushing her food away.
"Nessie? Please keep your thoughts to yourself…" Carlisle raised an eyebrow at her.
She rolled her big brown eyes at him and leapt from the stool to the floor. She reached out her little hand, took one of mine and tugged. I smiled at her impatience, then frowned as I noticed how hot her skin was. Was she sick? She didn't look sick, she looked beautiful but no surprise there I suppose.
"So can you really sing and play the guitar?" Nessie asked brightly.
"Yes," I said laughing. "News travels fast I guess."
"Daddy plays the piano, but he plays classical. Could I hear you play?" She asked.
"Maybe later." I gave her the same answer that I gave Nahuel when he asked.
Nessie stopped and turned to look up at me. "Please?"
Without any reason other than I was caught up in her hopeful brown eyes and her ethereal smile, I found myself agreeing. "Tell you what. After I get cleaned up, I'll play… It'll give me something do while I wait for my clothes to get clean."
Her smile widened and she pulled me forward again.
I spent the time trying to figure out how old she was… Three? Four? I didn't know much about children, but still… Was it normal for toddlers to talk in full sentences with perfect articulation? Maybe she's in one of those thousand dollar tuition preschools where they teach materials most high school students don't see. Not that I'd know much about high school.
"Here, this is Aunt Alice's bathroom." Nessie said beaming up at me. "There are towels under the sink."
I was surprised. I hadn't been paying attention to where she was leading me.
"Thanks… Nessie."
Once she was gone I breathed a sigh of relief.
Something very strange was going on with this family. None of them looked alike, but at the same time they all looked alike. First, there was Nahuel. He seemed like a quiet old soul except for the fact that he bumped off two people in the middle of the street. What the hell was he doing in Port Angeles anyway? Then there was this family. Alice the anorexic pothead. Edward frowning one minute and laughing the next at seemingly nothing. Carlisle fishing for answers. Rosalie… Why did she even come up to see me if she wasn't going to say anything? And the big guy… Why the wink? And the kid? And Esme… She seemed the most normal of all which only added to everybody else's creepy factor. This place feels like Beverly Hills version of Stepford.
Yeah, I'm hauling ass as soon as possible.
I climbed in to the warm water and closed my eyes letting the spray wash away the suspicion. I shouldn't be suspicious after all. They helped me when I needed help and I was never going to see them again after today. They have every right to be freaks and its none of my business.
"There is a house in New Orleans they call the rising sun," I sang the familiar lyrics softly to myself to take my mind off of my strange but gracious hosts. "And it's been the ruin of many a poor girl and me, oh God, I'm one."
My hair fully saturated I paused to grab shampoo. My eyes bulged slightly as I realized there were like fifty different hair care products. How many ways are there to wash hair? I read the bottles carefully not wanting to be the idiot who puts neon orange dye in her hair by mistake. I settled on a blue bottle that smelled slightly of vanilla that the label said was for longer hair.
"My mother was a tailor, she sewed my new blue jeans," I sang the next line as I worked up a decent lather. "My father was a gamblin' man, Lord, down in New Orleans."
A light knock on the door gave me pause.
"Cricket?" I recognized Alice's voice.
"Yeah?" I called.
"Esme sent me up to gather your laundry. Do you mind?"
I hesitated. "Go ahead."
The door opened and I added, "Thanks," to be polite.
It wasn't until after the door closed that I realized a new problem. My clean clothes were still in my bag. My bag was still in Nahuel's room. Shit. I suppose I'll have to wrap a towel around me and make a run for it. Then I remember ten people lived here… I'd have to make it a fast run.
I heard a peal of laughter downstairs. At least they were a happy family if a little… unorthodox.
The door opened again.
"Alice?" I asked, annoyed now. Asking to be let it was one thing walking in was another.
"Don't mind me. I'm just double checking that you have clean towels."
I stuck my head out just as the door closed.
My bag. Sitting there by the door. Well that was nice of her… I think. "Now the only thing a gambler needs is a suitcase and a trunk…"
Once I was cleaned up and dressed I grabbed my bag went back to Nahuel's room to gather my guitar. It would be easier to have them downstairs with me. Once my clothes were done I could have them packed and be out the door in seconds. I thought about how trusting these people were. Not at all concerned with a complete stranger wandering through their home. By now they had to have figured out that I lived on the streets… How did they know I wasn't some klepto or ax murder?
When I got to his room I gasped in horrified surprise. The sky outside was so thick with thunderheads it was almost black. The wind was whipping through the trees, making pine needles blur together and leaves reveal their pale undersides. The fat rain drops were now pounding against the glass so hard it sounded like hail.
Washington. Maybe I shouldn't wait for fall. Maybe I should just buy a bus ticket to Cali and worry about money when I get there.
Downstairs Edward eyed my things with speculation as I set them near the door, then his eyes flickered to the window and the weather beyond. Then he returned his gaze to me and raised an eyebrow. Are you serious? He seemed to be saying. I shrugged in response. I hadn't decided yet.
"Cricket?" Carlisle said behind me. I jumped. I didn't hear him come in.
"Yeah?"
"I know you're in a hurry to be on your way, but you should wait until the weather passes."
I opened my mouth to disagree, but I stopped when I heard a nasal beeping sound from the television. Followed by a generically official sounding voice.
"This is the National Weather Service Broadcast System… with a severe thunderstorm warning… with strong winds and possible flash flooding... we recommend that you stay indoors and keep away from windows…"
"It'd be insanity to leave now." Edward voiced his opinion.
I hated to admit it but they were right. I'd have to stay. I shook my head and kicked my shoes off in frustration. That was childish. With a sigh I bent down and straightened my shoes next to my bag. Edward chuckled softly behind me. Man was he starting to get on my nerves.
Over the wind I heard a car engine. I glanced out a window at the driveway. I trembled as panic flooded through me and then I froze with shock. They called the cops on me? If they wanted me gone they should have just said so. I would have bounced without complaint.
"Bella, your father is here," Edward said coming over to the window. He gave me a reassuring smile like he knew what I was thinking. "Looks like Charlie brought Jacob, too."
I suddenly felt calm despite the presence of a cruiser just beyond the window pane.
I heard a new chuckle behind me. "What are we going to tell them about our guest?" A man's voice asked humorously.
I spun about. What a total shock. Pale. Beautiful. Possibly related to a Greek god. Anyone else noticing a pattern here?
"Hello. We haven't met yet." No shit, Sherlock. I'd remember a face like that. "I'm Jasper."
"Hey, Jasper," I said murmured a hello.
Another oddity. Jasper. Carlisle. Edward. Alice. Emmett. Who had names like that these days? I can't comment on the wifey's name because before today I had never heard the name Esme before. But still… Why were they all named like… like… I don't know… yesteryear farm children? Like their parents were more worried about producing enough little helpers who would live passed infanthood than the originality of names.
I shook my head again and turned back to the window. The man climbing out of the drivers side door was not what I expected. No uniform, no badge, no piece… No colorless skin, no impossible beauty, no hair… Well that was an exaggeration of course, he was balding but he still had enough hair left to see the dark curls… He was running through the rain as fast as he could as younger man climbed out of the passenger side door.
The younger man was tall… Taller than Michael Jordan tall. His skin was rich shade of copper and he had crow black hair chopped untidily… Not that I hadn't seen worse haircuts. His face was wide, but the planes sharp, and he came off looking like something a highly skilled craftsman carved out of redwood and then brought to life with a spell. Then he grinned. The grin seemed to bring his face to life shaving ten years off his appearance. He ran through the rain with less urgency than the older man.
They moved into a blind spot but I could still hear the footsteps on the porch soon followed by a frantic knocking.
A/N:
Cricket was singing "House of the rising Sun" by Credence Clearwater Revival. Its an oldie but goodie and adds a bit of macabre to any situation in my opinion.