Bonjour! (And there ends my *extensive* French vocabulary :)) Thank you for your reviews, and I hope you like this chappy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. I do not own Inkheart. They both belong to their respected authors and owners.
Dustfinger quickly looked up, then at Mo for help. The book doctor offered no help, in fact he could hardly keep in his mirth. It's leaking out your eyes, Dustfinger's mind spat in the Silvertongue's direction. He stared down at Meggie, then Farid but found just as much help from them as he did from Mo.
Thankfully, he got help from the girl's mother. "Now Renesmee, you really shouldn't just ask stranger's questions like that." Dustfinger didn't know whether he should be thankful or disgruntled.
"But we're not strangers, he knows my name and I know his!" she argued, feebly trying to fight her mother's grip. Dustfinger couldn't help but smile at the little girl.
"Yeah," he answered, mentally flogging himself for answering her earlier question. "I know, but I don't think it's going to kill me anytime soon."
"You never can tell, it's pretty dangerous," she retorted, staring up at him with big eyes.
"Trust me," he stated simply. Nessie just gazed at him for a moment, indecision riding on her expression. Carefully she reached up to his face, and almost as if he had no choice he leant down to reach her hand. Just before they made contact, Bella snatched Nessie's hand.
"Renesmee!" she cried, gently pulling her back to her father. Edward smiled warmly down at the two girls, than turned to Dustfinger and snapped him a grin that was just as full of laughter as Mo's. A clap echoed around the room, and the fire dancer jumped then turned to look at the Blue Jay.
"Well, where are those books of yours, Dr. Cullen?"
"First of all, please just call me Carlisle," he gave a dazzling smile, then motioned for them to follow. "They're up in my office. Please, Farid, Dustfinger, Meggie, make yourself at home," and then he smiled, disappearing with Mo in pursuit. Almost immediately, the young Nessie turned to the tan-skinned boy and practically jumped on him in a hug.
"Jake! Can we go play tag again?" she asked.
"Of course," he nodded, taking her hand. Almost immediately, she broke her hand away and ran over to the three newcomers.
"You all need to come play with us!" she smiled, grabbing Dustfinger's wrist over his jacket and tugging him to the door. Surprisingly, she jerked the man forward and he stumbled.
"Stronger than she looks, ain't she?" Jacob gave a cheeky grin. Dustfinger nodded feebly and glanced back at the closely following Farid.
"You must be getting weak in your second time around," he drawled, smiling just as cheekily as Jacob at the befuddled Dustfinger. Using his other hand, the captive dancer smacked him on the back of the head.
"Yeah, did you forget I can still do that in my 'second time around'?" he mocked, straightening and watching as Meggie smiled at them.
"Wait!" the hyperactive one, Alice, called. She twirled over to Meggie and grasped her hands. "You've got to let me give you some old hand-me-downs!" at the words, she looked to nearly gag. "Those clothes look like they've been worn nearly a million times! I just can't stand aside and do nothing!" she gave an expression Dustfinger imagined a rather Holy Saint would give. Meggie hardly had time to give out a single sigh, let alone a SOS before she was being dragged like a rag doll after Alice. Bella sighed to Edward.
"I better go referee," she muttered, regretfully leaving Edward. The young man glanced around the room, probably wondering where everyone had gone. He then glanced over at the small 'tag' group and smiled at Jacob.
"Looks like I'm playing with you," he chuckled, walking over to the enormous boy.
"Ugh," he moaned overdramaticlly and didn't even try to hide his grin. "Are you sure 'tag' is up to your danger standards?" he chuckled.
"I'm sure I'll manage." He stated, glancing down at his little girl. Dustfinger glanced at Farid and fondly messed up his hair.
"If he'll manage, are you sure you can?" he questioned quietly and mockingly. Farid swiped at his hand and did his best to look brave.
"Of course! I have faced the worst and haven't died!" he said, slightly louder than necessary. Then a look of thought. "Again." He gave him a glance out of the corner of his eyes that practically screamed, 'say something, I dare you'. He had a sudden memory of the White Women, so scared yet so in love, wanting to touch him yet too scared to, and shuddered.
"Ha, ha," he said dryly, glancing up to see Edward's face a strange mix of horror and confusion. "Something wrong?" he asked, snapping the young man out of his reverie. He gave a hundred-watt smile before turning to the door.
"Shall we?" the door opened and the cold, Fork's mid-winter air whipped through the room. It made the existence of the fire pulsing through his veins all the more noticeable. And very much appreciated. Farid shuddered next to him, prompting Dustfinger's blasted paternal instincts to kick in. He peeled off his trench coat and tossed it to the boy.
"There. Now don't go dying on me now," he muttered, rubbing his arms over the thin black material of his long-sleeved shirt. He hardly felt the breeze, just noticed it as it tugged on his hair. But of course, he didn't miss the stares from the two older men in the room.
"Aren't you gonna' get cold?" Jacob asked, raising an eyebrow. Edward seemingly mimicked him.
"Aren't you?" Dustfinger retorted, eyeing their thin shirts. The tall Native American snorted and crossed his arms in front of his chest.
"Nope, I'm used to it. Oh Pale One over there is too," he jerked a thumb in Edward's direction.
"How do you play this tag?" Farid asked, struggling to get his arm through the folded-over sleeve. Dustfinger absently threw the sleeve over and his arm popped through. He smiled in appreciation.
"You don't know how to play tag?" Nessie asked, her voice high and incredulous. Farid shook his hand, then disappeared as the young girl grasped his overshadowed hand and ran off to the forest. Jacob's eyes widened and he took off after her. Edward shook his head and followed, his movements graceful like a wraith's. The abandoned fire dancer couldn't help but watch as he left, feeling pathetic as he lugged after them and closed the door behind him. The group was already on the far side of the clearing, so he ran after them. Consciously, he tried to make his movements more agile and graceful so he wouldn't look so out of place.
The four forms ahead snaked in and out of the trees, and Dustfinger found himself having to jump over roots and duck under branches while trying to keep up. Trees flashed by and birds twittered obnoxiously above them. Winds jerked at the trees and the ginger headed dancer, filling the air with a cool chill. There were no shadows to be seen, as there was no sun to cast any. The clouds cast a stark background for the eternally green trees, but the true beauty of the apathetic sky could only be seen from the clearing they entered.
Nessie skipped to the middle of the clearing, relinquishing Farid's hand and spinning around once. "Let's start from here! Okay, we play tag a little different here!" Edward stepped forward quickly and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"But lets stick to normal for today. We don't want to confuse the poor guy, do we?" his voice was kind, but had a warning dancing on the edge. She pouted for an instant, then gave another adorable smile.
"Okay. One of us is 'it', and the rest of us try to keep away from them. If the 'it' person catches you, you're 'it'." Farid's face was all confusion as he stared at the little girl.
"You are abnormally smart for a girl your size," he said, his face shocked. "But I think I get it."
"Good, because you're it!" she giggled, then practically disappeared into the trees, dodging them. Farid was shocked into silence for a moment, but it passed and he ran after her. Jacob and Edward exchanged glances, before turning to Dustfinger.
"You going to play?" Jacob asked, his face a silly grin. Dustfinger shrugged and leaned against a tree.
"I'm not really one to run around. I'll referee," he stated dryly. A leaf crackled provoking him to turn around. A small raccoon stared up at him, gazing through his mask and then disappearing behind a log. He turned around and nearly lost his footing at the sight of one Alice Cullen chatting quickly to Jacob and Edward. I didn't even hear her come up! And that raccoon can't weigh more than her. Occasionally, one of them would glance at Dustfinger, then Jacob ran off into the forest, quickly meshing with the trees and disappearing. Almost as quickly as he left, he reappeared with Farid and Nessie in tow. He made his way across the clearing in a few elongated leaps then grabbed Dustfinger's wrist and pushed him in the direction of the trees.
"Take Farid and head back to the house," he ordered his voice barkish and tight. The dancer stopped his propel and turned around to face the impeccably still Jacob. Actually, he wasn't still. His form seemed to blur and vibrate. It blended with the trees and his jaw seemed so tight it might break off with an overly powerful breeze.
"Hey! What's going on? Are you okay?" his voice went from demanding to worried. Jacob shook his head and huffed when Nessie wrapped her arms around him.
"Jake! Calm down!" she ordered childishly. Jacob gently untangled her and whispered.
"Now's not quite the time." Dustfinger turned to him and he to him. "Ya'll need to go, now." A desperate feeling of urgency rose in the fire dancer's stomach and he glanced around the trees, half expecting the towering trees to give way to a White Lady, just ready to bring him back.
Without another glance, he took off into the forest knowing that Farid would follow like a faithful dog. Not like I'm any different, his subconscious muttered, remembering his days of following the Blue Jay.
Shockingly, not long after he entered the forest he hit a trail. It's pale skin ran in and out among the trees, enticing Dustfinger. He followed it without hesitation, but was shocked to hear Nessie's loud giggle behind them. Apparently, whatever was going on in the clearing didn't need to have little girls involved, and that was never a good thing in Dustfinger's book. The youngest Cullen caught up quickly, then stopped.
"Well, what have we here?" his voice snaked through the humid air and hit the man like a brick. It swirled around him, twisting and turning around until it made his mind dizzy. He fumbled to a stop with Farid close behind. "Smells… nice."
"Go away!" Nessie snapped, stepping in front of Dustfinger and glaring at the figure standing before them. Gently, he coerced her behind him and stood protectively in front of the two.
"Who are you?" Dustfinger asked, his voice low and dark. The man slid his hands into his slick, black suit and stepped forward.
"There's no need to get defensive of them. I never was one for Indian food, and as for the little one," he picked at his teeth, "I don't like half and half." What does this have to do with dairy? His red eyes gleamed as he stopped picking and stepped closer. Dustfinger felt his insides clench as the man examined him, every hair and every inch. "But as for you, you were better off with the girl as a shield. I love smoked meat, and you my friend have the distinct smell of…" he inhaled deeply, his eyelids fluttering. "Birch. Otherworldly and magical, that smell will always bring back good memories."
"Sorry, I don't wander around carrying a sirloin. Go find a cow," Dustfinger snapped, his hands growing hot. The man chuckled and stepped forward.
"Don't get mad, I hate steamed." He gave a disgusted scowl like he'd tasted a particularly rotten vegetable. "Too bland. As for cow, never was one for the taste." He advanced another step, and Dustfinger snapped his fingers nervously.
"Who are you?" the fire dancer hissed, trying desperately to control the embers dying to be stoked within him.
"Marcus," and he took another step. "And you are?"
"I'd rather not have you looking me up," Dustfinger muttered, pushing the two younger kids back so he could step back himself.
"Dustfinger, I already know. I just thought it'd be nicer to ask," he said, shaking his head patronizingly. Dustfinger blinked, then felt a hand on his shoulder. Marcus leered down at him, his eyes glowing hungrily.
"Don't touch me!" Dustfinger spat, letting the flames lick at his hands and slapping away the arm in surprise. Marcus hissed lividly and jumped back, rubbing his arm and glaring at him.
"What was that?" he demanded. Dustfinger couldn't quite think of a valid answer, but was saved by an ear-splitting howl to his right. Marcus' eyes widened as he stared into the woods.
A horse jumped out of the trees, tackling Marcus and pushing him into the trees on the other side. There was a feral growl that made Dustfinger's stomach turn.
"Jake!" Nessie screeched, running out from behind him and out of his reach before he got a chance to stop her. You named your horse after your best friend? In a flash, Edward had his hands on her shoulders, restraining her and comforting her simultaneously. "But dad!"
"He'll be all right."
"There are mighty big horses in Washington," Farid gasped, his face awed. Edward didn't even look at him.
"Hurry back to the house," the man snapped, pushing gently at Nessie and motioning for Farid and Dustfinger to follow. They made to run past, but Dustfinger stopped and glanced at the seemingly frozen young man, abandoning the two younger kids to run back.
"Aren't you coming? There's a killer horse on the loose," his voice was dry. Edward absently turned to spare him a quick glance.
"No, I want to make sure Marcus is taken care of," Honey yellow eyes glanced over his shoulder in defiance to meet his stare.
"You know him?"
"I overheard him speaking," he answered quickly. Another snarl ripped through the cold air, then a small whimper. Edward cursed and seemed to disappear into the foliage. Stopping him, however, was the horse stumbling out of the undergrowth, it's arm bleeding uncontrollably.
But it wasn't a horse.
And there you have it! I hope it's to ya'lls approval and hopefully it won't take too long for the next chappy!