Chapter 6: Whipped

JPOV

As I lay on the bed next to this sleeping beauty, my emotions were raging out of control. I felt… happy, for the first time in my life, but at the same time guilt and disgust were eating away at me. Guilt for the pain I had caused her and disgust for the monster I was. At the same time, there was the ever present bloodlust, tearing through my dead veins. The need to consume her blood, that tasty blood, was overpowering now that she was sleeping. It would be too easy to just take a sip of her, scratch her flesh with my nail, producing a few drops and swipe them away with my tongue. I had done it before, that day in the school. While I commanded her to stay still and not look, I had made a tiny incision and drank greedily from her. Why I do it that way, I still don't know. I guess I like to play with my food. And it was a good thing I did, because I would never have kept Isabella alive otherwise. When I had caught her sneaking a peek at me while drinking from her, I felt her lust skyrocket. That confused me so much, I didn't kill her right away. And I ran. I ran for five days until I realized I had to see her again and confront that pull I felt towards her.

She was tossing and turning in her sleep, muttering what sounded like curses under her breath. I was in doubt whether to drown her in lethargy or shake her from her nightmare. In the end, I didn't have to make a decision. She threw her arm around me and relaxed instantly, her breathing evening out. Meanwhile the sounds from downstairs were getting louder as Peter and Charlotte were packing our stuff. We would be leaving for Texas once the girl woke up. Considering the amount of time she had spent awake, she would be out for a couple of more hours. I scanned her emotions thoroughly and when I was convinced she wouldn't have another nightmare soon, I disentangled myself from her embrace. The bloodlust was getting dangerously high, so I had no choice but to leave her and hunt.

Downstairs Peter was already waiting for me with directions where to go. I was still in doubt about hunting animals or humans, but he knew. Always fucking Merlin. He scowled at me like he knew what I was thinking, but he was no mind reader. He just knew how much I disliked his gift sometimes. Without a word I took the roadmap from him and saw he had marked a retirement home not far from here. Great, nothing better than drinking from some old hag that tasted like parchment. It couldn't be helped. I didn't have the time to scout a tastier victim without raising suspicion and getting back before Isabella woke up. I ran off thinking about what I would do with her beautiful body when I got back to erase the kill from my mind.

Sneaking into the home was no challenge. The nurse at the front desk was easily dazzled with my southern charm, I didn't even have to manipulate her emotions. What is it with middle aged women and young men? Do they really think there is any possibility of ever getting us into their beds?

I wandered down the halls, gauging the emotions coming from every room, until I found what I was looking for. I opened the door quickly and closed it again behind my back. Despair was thick in the air, mixed with a touch of acquiescence; the lady in this room was dying. Two bright blue eyes focused on mine with an intensity I didn't expect based in her emotions.

"I've waited a long time for you, young man," she croaked, her voice barely above a whisper. She lifted her hand a fraction of an inch, edging me closer. I wasn't really surprised; she probably thought I was her long lost great grandson or something. Like I could ever resemble a human.

"I didn't expect death to be so pretty," she sighed, taking my hand in hers. Now I was surprised. Did she know what I was?

"Don't look so surprised, son," she said with a smile. "When you've reached my age, you know when your time has come."

The irony of that statement wasn't lost on me, but I reckoned it would be easier this way. Her despair was already being replaced with acceptance and longing. I bent over her and looked into her eyes one last time. She gave me a small nod, like she actually knew what I was going to do and I sank my teeth into her neck. The taste of her blood was tainted with drugs and old age, but it was still better than any animal I could pick. It made it easier to stop before she was entirely empty. I sealed the wound with my venom – for which I needed her to be still alive - and waited for her heart to stop. This way, the scar would barely be visible and the doctors would feel no need to do an autopsy. Without a second glance, I left the room and the home and ran for my Isabella. The new blood coursing through my veins would keep the bloodlust at bay for at least two weeks, much longer than any animal could sustain me.

Driving in my Corvette seemed less comfortable for Isabella than anticipated. It was a sports car, made for speeding round a track, not for going at a snail's pace across badly asphalted roads. The suspension of the car was hard and every bump in the road rattled through her body. Not that she was complaining, but two hours in the drive, I could sense her discomfort. Her back was still hurting despite the painkillers and the way she braced herself at every sudden movement confirmed my suspicions. She was in pain. At the next gas station I pulled over and made her switch with Peter. His Range Rover would be far more comfortable than my car. And that way she could get to know Charlotte a little better. She didn't complain and I felt her gratitude. She kissed me lightly on the lips and sashayed away. She glanced back over her shoulder and saw me checking out her ass, just like she planned.

"You're whipped, man," Peter snorted as he punched me on the arm. "I like her," he added with a smile and I felt his genuine affection for her. He accepted her in our little coven and that meant a lot to me. The fucker smiled his knowing smile at me and I resisted the urge to deck him. Things were as they used to be. But why did I feel a tinge of jealousy when I saw Isabella get into the car with Charlotte?

I tried not to eavesdrop on the girl's conversation, but I couldn't help myself. And that bastard Peter wasn't helping either. He was listening just as intently as I was. Most of the time Charlotte was talking. She told Isabella where we had been living, what we did to pass the time, talked about what books she liked and which movies she wanted to see. It turned out they had a comparable taste in music and movies, but were kind of the opposite where it came to books. Charlotte was hung up on the classics, Shakespeare, the Bronte sisters, Austen and mostly romantic shit I greatly despised, whereas my girl seemed to have a more adventurous taste. A smile crept upon my face as she named some of all time classics like Dumas' Three Musketeers and Verne's Twenty Thousand Leagues Under The Sea. She even surprised Peter when she named his favorite book, Lord of the Rings.

What surprised me most during her conversation with Charlotte was her maturity. I knew she was only eighteen, but she could pass for a woman twice that age when you heard her speak. Peter noticed it as well and we briefly discussed it, wondering what life had thrown her way to make her like that. She'd made a slip yesterday when she mentioned being abused and we figured that might have something to do with it. The thought of some random guy taking advantage of her made a red veil drop in front of my eyes. Peter's cough alerted me to the fact I was speeding and gripping the steering wheel so tightly my fingers left impressions in the leather. I took a few breaths and relaxed as much as I could. Charlotte's next question made me stiffen all over again.

"So Bella, are you really eighteen? You sound much more mature than that."

She sighed and I felt her reluctance to share her story with Charlotte. That pleased me in a way, because I wanted her to tell me first, not Charlotte.

"Let's say I've experienced more of the world than most girls my age," she admitted. "Books and movies have been a way for me to escape from this world when I felt the need to. If I wasn't too much of a sissy, I would have done drugs or something, I guess."

That statement made me growl. The idea of her as a junkie was burning into my brain, but the thought of her needing drugs to escape from her life was even worse. I felt like murdering someone, I just didn't know who. But I was bound to find out eventually, of that I was sure now.

Charlotte had changed the topic to something lighter in the car behind us and she was asking the girl after her favorite food. It brought her mind out of the dark place she was in moments before and I could feel her emotions become a little less burdened. I did realize that some of the darkness that was present inside her wouldn't disappear overnight. And that darkness needed to be gone before I was ever turning her, otherwise she would be just as tortured as I was.

We drove at a record pace, covering the 2700 miles in les than 38 hours. We had to stop a little more than expected due to bathroom breaks, but we made up for it by speeding a little. Isabella spent the last leg of the drive in my car sleeping, utterly exhausted. She had tried staying awake chatting to Charlotte, but succumbed to sleep eventually.

"Wake up, darling, we're here," I whispered in her ear while unbuckling her seat belt. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled when she recognized me, no fear present. She gave me a quick peck on the cheek and got out of the car. She stretched and I heard her sore muscles resist and her joints snap. The road trip had been harder on her than she had let me believe and that made me frustrated. I had asked her only two days earlier to tell me if I hurt her and here she was again, hurt. She must have realized what the look on my face was about, because she stepped up to me and gave me a hug.

"You really don't remember what it's like to be human, don't you?" she said and I felt an undertone of amusement. My perplexed expression made her laugh and she caressed the side of my face as she looked into my eyes.

"To be human is to be in pain, Jasper," she told me and there was pain in her eyes I couldn't erase. At the same time my dead heart leaped at the sound of my name on her tongue. Yes, I was whipped. Peter's chuckle at my realization irritated the crap out of me, again, but I let it slide. Once we were on our own one of these days, I would get back at him. For now, I had other things on my mind. For instance, showing this incredible girl that there was pleasure as well in being human. I scooped her up in my arms and rushed to my, no our room. I could unpack later, when she was asleep.

AN: Sorry for the long wait. My beta's back on track though, yippie :). Hope you enjoyed it.