Chapter Eighteen - Eyes on the Prize

Olivier sat poised in the steel chair at my side.

May Li chanced a glance at our table. When Olivier caught her gaze, I could noticeably see her eyes widen and body tense. She turned and fixed her gaze straight ahead. Alyssa did not turn to look.

Olivier chuckled and smiled to himself before turning his face towards mine. He spoke softly, at a decibel level too low for human ears to detect.

"You look luscious. You smell atrocious."

"That's none of your concern," I rasped in a voice as quiet as his.

"On the contrary, it is my concern. I told you in clear words: NO Ken dolls—but perhaps you didn't register my message clearly—your little wolfy friend does not count as an exception."

"You have no claim over me."

"You are mine."

"I'm not yours."

"I could just kill you, you know—I bet you'd taste as nice as you smell."

"That would piss my family off."

"Ah, yes, your family. I would rather not kill you, regardless of your family, but I will say, your family is an essential part of the allure. Such a powerful and odd grouping. It makes stealing you away that much more appealing."

"You have no idea whom you're dealing with."

"On the contrary—I have a rather clear idea of whom I'm dealing with."

"No, you don't."

"Oh, you underestimate me, young one. I did my research, asked around, and the like. You do have a very remarkable family. Even an old drifter like myself heard of the clash with the Volturi—intriguing material for an otherwise stagnant century of vampiric history."

He tapped his chin bemused. "So, what else did I learn? You are animal-drinkers, trained fighters. A mind-reading father, a foreteller for an aunt, a shield for a mother, an empath for an uncle, not to mention your family's sheer advantage in numbers and connections.

"Now, if I was a nice, plain vampire, I would have given up and run—but I am not so ordinary. I crave a little challenge to spice up the passing of the years, and let's just say that I have a skill that has aided me greatly in my recent reconnaissance."

I eyed him warily. I did not like the idea of him possessing an extra power.

"Oh, now, aren't you the least bit curious, dearest?" His eyes sparkled.

"No."

"Oh, I haven't given you any proper clues though, have I?" Another tap on the chin. "Well, that's not fair. Here's my hint: I was a scout in my human life—a very talented scout."

"You're a tracker."

He cackled. "Not smell. Wrong sense, pretty."

I watched him carefully—conflicted. On one hand, I hated meeting Olivier's gaze, and on the other hand, I felt that I needed to pay attention to protect my family and friends. His eyes seemed to see too much.

"Your eyes."

"Very good. Quite quick, aren't you?"

I refused to say anything. I was processing the new information.

Olivier gloated, "When you have eyes a thousand times better than a hawk's, you can just sit on a nearby mountain and see every slight motion of your quarry—even the words formed by their lips. My enhanced sight enabled me to close in on you while you were skiing. It's how I knew where to catch you at school."

"You killed her didn't you?"

"Hmmm? To whom do you refer?" Olivier pretended to look bored.

"Miss Girard. She's dead."

"Oh, the old bat, you mean. Yes, she's dead."

I shuddered and gripped the table, my fist clenching.

"Oh, don't think so badly of me. I was not cruel. In fact, I am rather sure that I made some of her more outrageous fantasies come true." He smiled wickedly. "But don't worry Renesmee, dearest, I just indulged her in petty lines of lively dialogue before I gave her a sweet and final kiss—and really, it was all for you—nothing to be jealous of."

I gasped under my breath. "You murdered her. She was a good person."

"Well, you wouldn't have wanted me to pay my little visit to your class with a dry throat, would you? Upon making our acquaintance, I recall you expressing a preference that I not dine on any of your sweet-smelling little friends, and I must say that I will do my best to be polite and obliging. But…"

He rolled his head and breathed in the aroma of the room. "My benevolence depends on your full and willing cooperation."

"You're threatening my friends."

"If you don't play nice, then I won't either." He leaned toward me.

I leaned away. "You call that playing nice? You're trying to force me to become your mate."

"Whether or not you know it, you are already my mate." His hand slid under the table and grabbed my leg. I could feel the icy tingle of his skin through my tights.

"I don't want you."

"Don't fret. I'll make sure you do."

Under the table I raised my hand threateningly toward him—I would defend myself.

"Do you really want to fight me in a room full of humans?" He laughed under his breath. "Firstly, you know you won't beat me—and then all of our witnesses would have to die regardless. A scuffle between the two of us would probably attract attention to the fact that we are not mere humans."

Once again, I was trapped. He was right. There was nothing I could do.

"I'll stay. Let them go."

He shook his head. "I'll let most of them go, but I'd like you two buddies to hang out."

I gasped.

Then, a shrill clang suddenly filled the room, and a voice came over the PA system.

Olivier hissed—almost loud enough for others to hear.

"Mr. Arent?" A female voice blared out from the speakers.

Olivier paused the film and answered in a slightly irritated voice. "How can I help you?"

"Yeeeesss," the voice giggled. "Vanessa Masen needs to come to the office to be excused for a family situation."

Olivier was having a hard time maintaining his human façade. His body was far too rigid.

He was in a bind. If he kept me here, he'd have to come up with a reason, and there was no reason that wouldn't arouse the suspicions of the room. He could simply kill everyone in the room—but then he'd lose his hold on me. I could see it on his face when he reached the same conclusion.

"Go ahead, Miss Masen," he commanded in a falsely cheerful voice. "I'm sure we'll see eachother again."

I walked stiffly to the door—fully aware of the eyes on my back.

A whisper followed me into the hall: "Don't worry, dearest. I promise you I won't be lonely while you're gone."

I didn't know what to do. I needed help, so I ran.