A/N Stephenie Meyer owns all. I just own a preoccupation with dramatic chase and hide scenes.

Also - story pimpage. Please read Into the Shadows of Darkness by Loverbug23 (on my favourites). It's seriously good and massively under-appreciated - cannot understand why she doesn't have a zillion reviews, so please go and check it out and review. Features kickass cop-Bella and seriously hot Edward...you'll love it!

CHAPTER FOUR

Previously (BPOV)

He slammed me back against the alley wall and slapped both his hands flat against the wall at either side of my head. I swear I heard him growl.

Nearly hyper-ventilating, I stared up at him, trapped by his intensity as much as by his body. His expression was dark and dangerous, bronze hair in tousled disarray framing a crystal-cut jaw and perfect features. Fury painted his eyes an even deeper shade of green.

"You really should not have done that, Isabella."

Oh crap.

~ * ~

BPOV

This was it. I was actually going to die.

All the running, all the hiding. The eight lonely months spent with no contact with friends or family, fleeing Italy, my fiancé's betrayal...all meaningless because I about to murdered by this green-eyed demon in a back alley in Phoenix.

I panicked, struggling against him with all the effectiveness of a fly fighting through concrete. He growled at me and tightened his grip, turning his thigh in to prevent me from bringing my knee up to his crotch. My face was pressed into his chest and I knew the blood on my forehead would seep into the fabric of his shirt; I wondered if later, once I was dead, that would bother him at all.

He glared down at me, nearly a foot taller than me. His hands were now gripping my wrists against the wall by my head, the motion making his forearm contract and the thick muscles move beneath his skin. He was pressed so tightly against me I could feel the rapid thud of his heart through the firm musculature of his chest against my cheek. The bricks were rough and abrasive against my back.

The dim light and my prone position prevented me seeing much of his face, just a mass of sharp masculine lines and firm angles. His eyes glinted down at me in the near-darkness like those of a cat, and were just as eerily green.

I suddenly realised in my panic that he had been speaking to me. The roar of my heartbeat and the spiraling dizziness blocked out his words, and the throbbing pain of my concussion now returned with a vengeance. I could feel blood trickling down my forehead from the earlier injury and was once again light-headed. If his body hadn't been holding me up I would have collapsed in a boneless heap in the alley.

"Isabella! Goddamn it, girl, can you hear me? Stop fucking fighting me!"

I fought the urge to sob, wondering why he was even bothering to speak to me. He was too strong, too tall; even if I wasn't injured I would have been screwed. What was he waiting for? Why wasn't I dead?

"Isabella!" Then, lower, muttered, "For fuck's sake..."

He pulled my wrists above my head and pinned them with one massive hand, moving back from me so I was no longer pressed against the wall. He bent down to my eye-height, frowning into my face. He snapped his fingers in front of my eyes.

"Isabella, I need you to stop fighting me so I can get your head to stop bleeding and we can get the hell out of here. Give me some sort of sign that you understanding fucking English!"

I blinked at him, now not only confused but pissed. Of course I spoke English! Was he was one those stupid assholes who assumed an Italian name meant I was Italian? Prick.

"Of course I understand you," I snapped.

He rolled his eyes. "Ah, she speaks."

"Why haven't you killed me yet?" A horrible thought then struck me. "Are you going to torture me first?

He smirked at me, a devilish crooked grin that despite the predicament made my knees weaker than before. "Believe me, Isabella, I am thinking about it."

"Huh?"

"Christ, how hard did you hit your head?" He reached into his back pocket, pulling out a cloth and held it tightly to my still-bleeding forehead.

My temper flashed then. It had been a long night, goddamn it! "Pretty fucking hard, actually. Your concern would be more touching if you assholes hadn't crashed into the bus in the first place."

He scowled at me. "I'm not with the Volturi, Isabella. I work with Jasper, and despite the fact that you're a pain in the ass who just fucking Tasered me I am here to protect you. My name is Edward Cullen." He spoke slightly more patiently now, but the edge of irritation and sarcasm remained. "Jasper showed you a picture of me, of all the operatives, when we first took you in. Do you remember?"

Edward Cullen. I blinked again, trying to shake the stars from my vision and looked at him more closely. The truth dawned on me as I realised with dread that his face was familiar, far too good-looking to forget.

Shit. I Tasered Carlisle's golden boy!

"I was reaching for my ID before, so you know who I am. Is that okay, Ms. Swan, or are you planning to taser me again?" The smirk was back.

I scoffed. "Yeah, the Taser's a whole lot of use halfway down the alleyway." I frowned then. "Besides, it barely did anything. Jasper said it would drop you!"

He chuckled at that. "You need to put it on a higher setting and hit it into the chest, not my belt; you barely tapped me." He fished the familiar flip ID out of his pocket, displaying it so I could see its unique hologram and the Cullen Group logo printed on. "This week's contact password is 'serpentine'. Now, are you okay if I let you go, or are you going to try and attack me again?"

I was lost in his eyes for a moment, dazed my more than just the head injury. He started to frown, and I squeaked out, "No, I'm good, thanks."

He snorted at that and released my wrists from above my head. My muscles were by now screaming in protest at their earlier abuse from the post-crash sprint across town, and the comforting haze of adrenaline and panic had long since dissipated to leave only embarrassing weakness behind.

I slid down the wall, my legs shaking and trembling. With a low curse he grabbed my upper arm and held me upright.

"Are you going to be able to walk? We need to get out of here, now. They didn't see us come in the alley, but they'll soon double back and start checking side streets."

"I..." I wanted to lie, assure him that of course I could walk. Honestly, I didn't know how realistic that was now. So I settled for the truth, "I don't know, but I'll try."

For a second I thought I glimpsed grudging respect in his expression, but it was back to its habitual scowl before I could be sure. "I'll help you, but we need to move now." He took one of my hands and held it against the cloth on my forehead. "Keep the pressure on, it'll stop the bleeding."

He looped an arm around me and gripped me at the waist, supporting most of my body weight as he dragged me along with my feet numb and unconnected to my body. We moved deeper into the alley, pausing only to scoop up my Taser from the ground which he stuffed into my pocket.

The sound of the traffic behind us grew quieter as we went deeper into the rabbit warren...

~ * ~

He dragged me through the maze of back streets until I had no clue where we were. Only the distant roar of traffic and the occasional glow of a street lamp broke the steady beat of his footsteps and the dragging stumble of mine.

Then I felt him tense, the long length of body abruptly on edge as his head shot back and forth, scanning the surrounds. He was suddenly more dangerous and deadly, a narrow-eyed predator tensed for the fight. The hairs on my neck stood up in a long line and my skin shivered.

"What are you -?"

"Shh!" he hissed, furious. He cocked his ear, listening.

Then I heard it: the pounding of running feet on pavements, heading towards us. My heart was in my throat as he picked up the pace and darted in the opposite direction we'd been heading, dodging and weaving through a multitude of twists and turns. He was carrying more than supporting me now, though the fear gave me a fresh burst of adrenaline that allowed me to at least not hinder his quicker gait.

He did this three times more. Running deeper into the maze, then stopping to listen intently. Each time the footsteps would reappear; each time they seemed closer. I could hear him cursing under his breath as he pulled me into an even dingier street and dragged me down next to a dumpster.

The stench of the rotting garbage was unbelievable and did nothing to help the nausea rolling in my gut. I closed my eyes and groaned, leaning into the wall and trying not to lose the contents of my stomach.

Then my eyes shot open in shock as I felt his hands on me, running over the cloth of my t-shirt and over breasts. His fingers were long and calloused, firm and probing against me, then they dipped under my shirt to roughly trace my bare skin. The contact sent a jolt through me, like forked lightning under my skin that was so intense I almost expected to see a spark.

It distracted me for a moment, and him too as his hands paused, then I felt him trace the length of my bra strap and I snapped back to reality, struggling back from him.

"Are you crazy? What the hell are you doing?" I whispered furiously.

He rolled his eyes and jerked me back towards him, now running him hands over my shoulders."Give me a break, princess. I don't have time for you to be a prima donna."

"A prima donna? You're insane and you're lucky I haven't Tasered your ass again!"

He removed his hands from my shirt, but just as quickly started pushing them roughly through my hair and over my scalp before running him thumbs down my ears. I whole body shivered involuntarily as he brushed by lobes and the sensitive skin behind them.

I heard a low chuckle at my reaction, and my temper flared. "I can't believe Jasper sent me a certifiable pervert who is trying to grope me behind a dumpster instead of escaping!" I hissed, too aware of our pursuers to raise my voice and scream at him as I wanted to.

He snorted. "Hah! Don't flatter yourself, I'm just doing my job. And besides, no offence but you're a little too skinny for my taste."

I sneered at that. Jackass. "Then what the fuck are you doing?"

Then I felt his palms sliding over the denim shorts covering my ass, and I jumped and made a girly yelp sound that made him snigger lowly. He dipped one hand into the back right pocket over my butt with a grin and pulled out a small black disc the size of my thumbnail.

"This, princess. I was looking for this."

"What the hell is that?" I hissed.

And more importantly, how the hell did it end up in that pocket?

~ * ~

EPOV

"This, girly, is a GPS device. They're using it to track you, that's how they keep finding us. Now, shut the fuck up so I can deal with it."

She didn't say a word, her doe eyes wide and her pink lips parted in a shocked 'O'. Ah, at last the key to shutting her up. Too bad I didn't have the time to enjoy it.

I scanned our surroundings. I didn't just want to toss the device - it was too much of a giveaway if it just suddenly went still. I could hear traffic louder to our left and headed that way, dragging little Miss. Taser-happy along with me. We approached a moderately busy side road after a few minutes and I tossed the device into the open bed of a red Chevy truck heading south.

I pulled the still silent brunette along the street in the opposite direction, heading off the road and back into the poorly lit side streets. I shot her a dark glower and pressed my finger against my lip, communicating clearly that her current silence was very much appreciated and better damn well continue.

Then I slid her to the ground beside another dumpster. She wrinkled her nose at the smell, and I barely resisted the impulse to roll my eyes at her again. Spoilt, little...

I stood on the edge of the street, watching down the road without revealing myself. Moments later three dark-haired men came running out; I could hear their breathless pants and muffled curses from here. My lip curled in distain - it'd barely been a decent chase at all, and I'd been dragging the accident magnet along. No stamina.

Two of them began running south, following the truck now carrying the GPS device, while the other man yanked out a phone and snarled a stream of Italian into the receiver. Less than five minutes later a blue BMW screeched to the sidewalk in front of them, the phone-guy jumped in and tore off down the street in the same direction.

I snorted. Fucking amateurs.

I glanced back to check on the Volturi chick and saw that she was where I'd left her, still pressing the cloth to her forehead and her eyes showing too much white. The sight startled me and for a crazy minute I was struck by the urge to...hug her or some shit. The wildcat from earlier was gone and now she just looked fucking...scared. And lost.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, breaking my attention. Jasper. I whipped it out and he spoke immediately.

"Do you have her?" he demanded tersely.

"Yeah." I pinched the bridge of my nose, leaning back against the side of the building next to us. "There were some complications -" under-exaggeration of the goddamn century "- but we're clear now. We need transportation though and we're at least half an hour from my car."

"What's your plan?"

I glanced dubiously at Isabella; she looked too pale and was definitely not up for another dash through the streets. I could carry her, but as she looked banged up and vulnerable there'd be too many odd looks and fucking questions. It would attract attention neither of us could afford right now.

"Edward, you still there?"

"Yeah." I sighed, running my hand through my hair. The exhaustion was starting to creep up on me now. "I'll jack a car, drive through to Washington. Have someone meet us at the Nevada border - it's too risky to cross with a stolen car. Too risky to fly either, the Volturi will be watching the airports." I paused. "I'm still bringing her to Seattle, right?"

Jasper sounded tired. "Yeah. They'll probably know that where we'll take her, but right now I'm out of ideas. Every goddamn place we send her, no matter how remote, they always find her. The more we hide her the more damage we do; maybe a show of force is the best way now."

I frowned. "Tell me you're not thinking what I think you're thinking, Jasper."

"It's the only way. We'll keep her at the house with Esme and Alice until we figure out what the hell to do. If we leave her out on her own again, she's going to get killed."

I lowered my voice so she couldn't hear me. "So stick her somewhere with a discrete guard. You keep her at my father's house and it'll be like painting a bulls-eye on her ass."

"Don't you think I tried that already? Christ, Edward, every time we give her a guard they find her even quicker! They're really pulling out all the stops for this one, they want her bad and you know they have eyes everywhere. They're like fucking rats." He paused. "Aro's offering a small fortune for her and a serious step-up in their organisation for whichever bastard brings her in."

I frowned, then spoke even more quietly. "Bring her in? I thought they just want her dead. Didn't they blow up her car last month?"

Jasper sighed. "Yeah, but we think they just wanted to get her guards. Your father got his hands on a copy of Aro's orders last week - they're very explicit that she's to be brought in still breathing. She doesn't know though. If she had any idea what they've got planned for her..." He tapered off. "Well, I'll just say she's better off thinking they just want to kill her."

I looked back to her. She was hugging her knees, curled into a ball on the ground. Her eyes stared sightlessly into the opposite wall and her tangled hair half-hid her expression from view. The bleeding from her head had now stopped but she was still the colour of a sheet. I needed to get her in a car and warmed up before she goes into shock.

"I'm getting a car now," I said, spotting a likely candidate halfway down the street. "We'll meet at the usual Nevada rendezvous; I'll contact you when we're half an hour away."

"Sure thing." I could hear him breathe out, in relief or exasperation I could not tell; the sounds of the orchestra from the symphony were still faint in the background. "Take care of her, Edward."

I repeated his earlier words back to him, eyes locked on the suddenly fragile creature in my care. "Sure thing, Jazz."

~ * ~

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A/N Stephenie Meyer owns all. I just own an obsession with all things Twilight.

Thanks to my lovely reviewers - keep them coming! Quite a few of you have this on story alert or your favourites and I'd love to hear from you.