A/N: Thanks again to my shiny new permanent betas, Evelyn and MunkeeRajah. I'm such a lucky gal to have found them. They complete me!
Stephanie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I, however, do own the heart of a good man, and what more can a woman ask for, really? Wonder if Leah will learn that lesson any time soon.
Chapter 5 – Nothing to be Desired
Leah POV
My plan to hide my imprinting from Mom died a quick but painful death.
After Jake left, I did wind up going back to bed. I figured I deserved a good cry and some depression napping, totally girly indulgences I that rarely allowed myself. Like most things in my life, however, I didn't have the patience for an extended pity party.
I was back up again in a few hours, with nothing to do but pace the house, worry and agonize over what I was going to say to my mom and Seth when they got home. Oh, and try not to think about who would be arriving on our doorstep later in the day.
I knew I would have to deal with my imprint sooner or later. I was hoping for later—much later. I'm not a multi-tasker, and I figured I needed to focus on one worrisome confrontation at a time or my brain would melt.
Normally, when I'm trying to turn off my tendency toward self-demoralizing introspection, I work out. But I didn't want to leave the house and risk missing my family's return. So I opted for some extreme house-cleaning instead. After all, we were expecting an extended-stay guest shortly.
I had just finished cleaning behind all the appliances and was pushing the refrigerator back into place when Mom walked in the door.
"Leah, what are you doing?" she asked, looking like she'd just discovered a tribe of wolf-riding elves in her kitchen. Really, I didn't know why she sounded so bewildered. I was a notorious neat freak.
"Cleaning," I grunted, giving the ancient dented Frigidaire a final hip-thrust into place.
Mom looked around the kitchen, which, I was proud to say, looked better than it had it years. Every appliance gleamed—as much as possible considering their advanced ages—and every surface was so clean you could eat off the one of your choice.
The look on her face told me I'd just seriously jeopardized my whole "hide the imprinting" plan. She knew I resorted to physical activity whenever I was trying to avoid thinking about something.
"All right, enough," she said, tossing her purse and keys on the kitchen table. She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at me. "I want you to tell me what's going on. Right now. What happened at the Cullens' house this morning?"
I scrubbed my forearm across my brow, wiping away sweat before it ran into my eyes. "I told you what happened, Mom. Nahuel is back and in trouble. The pack and the vamps are all on alert right now." Hoping my voice wouldn't quaver too much, I quickly sketched in the details of Nahuel's confrontation with his sire, the murder of his aunt, and his escape and subsequent arrival in Forks.
"Yeah, I know all that," she said, rounding the table to stand in front of me. "Seth called my cell after he talked with Jacob." My mother was much shorter than me, and had to bend her neck backward to look up at me. "Something is up with you. What aren't you telling me?"
"Jake wants to hide Nahuel on the res, and we thought it would be best to hide him here. With us," I replied, hoping that half the truth would be enough to satisfy her. For a moment, it looked like my diversion might have worked. Until she started asking all the logical questions I should have realized she would ask, if my head were on straight right now.
"Here? In our house? Why would you think I'd agree to that?" she demanded. "Why would you agree to it? You hate everything to do with vampires."
I hesitated. Just half a second. And that's all it took for my incredibly insightful mother. She latched on to that pause for breath like a Rottweiler with a Chihuahua in its teeth.
"You are hiding something. Something about this vampire." I could see the wheels turning in her head. She mentally shifted around pieces of information and speculation like a puzzle, shaping a picture out of what little she knew and what she suspected.
"Jake must be helping you," she continued. "Why would he help you hide something from the elders?"
"We're not, Mom," I countered, eager to point her away from the truth she was approaching in rapidly constricting circles. "Jake's talking to the other elders and I'm telling you now. We're not hiding anything from you. We just need a safe place to stash Nahuel. He's got the Cullens and Renesmee mixed up in his problems, and that means Jake's mixed up in it too."
Again, she looked like she might be buying it. If I'd stopped there, instead of continuing with my blather, I might have gotten away with it. But of course, my brain-to-mouth filter has never been very effective, and I just had to keep going.
"You know Jake; if it threatens his imprint he'll do just about anything …"
My verbal diarrhea trickled to a halt. Mom was staring me with absolute, undisguised horror on her face. Fuck me and my big, fat, hairy mouth.
She took another step toward me and grabbed me by the arms. "Is that what you're hiding, Leah?" she whispered. "Have you imprinted on this vampire?" My stomach plummeted to my kneecaps.
"Half-vampire," I corrected her, pulling away and leaning back against the refrigerator. I didn't know what else to say, so I simply waited, watching while she processed all the implications of her realization. I probably looked just as shell-shocked a few hours ago, I thought.
"That's why you want to let him stay here, isn't it?" she asked. She's not usually the hand-wringing type, but since I'd pulled out of her grasp, she apparently needed something to do with her hands. I watched my normally unflappable mother clasp her hands together and begin twisting her fingers over her knuckles in frantic little circles. "You want to keep him nearby. You need to be near him. Isn't that how the imprinting works?"
"That's what Jake tells me," I replied, trying to make my tone sound light and unconcerned. And failing miserably. I watched her clench and twist her fingers for another moment, then reached out and took her hands in both of mine. I gently drew her toward the kitchen table and pressed her down into a chair.
"Look Mom, I'm not going to let this stand in the way of my duty to the pack, or to you and Seth," I tried to reassure her. "I know my priority has to be the protection of our tribe and our family. I will keep you safe and protect our home. This isn't going to change anything for me."
She looked at me like I'd grown a second head. "This changes everything. You're just going to make yourself miserable if you try to deny that. This isn't something you can ignore or make go away."
"I know that, too," I growled, dropping down into the chair opposite hers. I didn't want to talk about this right now, not even with her, and here she was bringing up all the same questions I'd been asking myself for the past several hours. And I still had no answers for either of us.
"Have you talked to him yet?"
"No. I didn't exactly stick around long enough to chat with him when it happened. I was kind of freaked out."
That drew a small smile out of her. "I'll bet," she replied. Then, echoing the conversation I'd had with Jacob just a few hours before, "What are you going to do?"
I looked away from her eyes, and pretended to brush imaginary crumbs off the table. Now that she knew the truth, I might as well be completely honest with her.
"I really don't know. It's not like I can jump into some kind of relationship with him. I don't even know him. But I just can't deal with not knowing where he is or if he's being protected. I need him to be here, with me. If he has to hide, if he's going to be in danger no matter what we do, at least I'll be there, too."
When I looked back up, her beautiful dark eyes were swimming with tears and her hands were battling on the table in front of her again. A tight pain seized the base of my throat. "Jeez, Mom, don't," I choked out.
"I'm sorry, Leah," she said quietly. "I can't imagine what this must be like for you. I won't lie and say I can be happy about this, or even okay with it. And I think you should deal with this rather than try to avoid it like you seem to be doing."
I opened my mouth to object, but she stopped me with a look. "You are avoiding it. That's what you do when you feel like you can't control a situation." She paused to draw in a deep, shaky breath, and her expression grew gentle. "But I want you to know I will do whatever you need me to do, whatever it takes to make this easier for you."
The tight feeling was back in my throat, only this time it was caused by intense gratitude and relief. She wasn't angry, wasn't blaming me. She understood that I needed time to deal with my imprint in my own way. "Well, you can keep this from Seth, for starters," I told her, grabbing her hands again. "I just need space to figure this out on my own. I need to figure him out on my own."
She snorted and shook her head. "I won't say anything to Seth, although I won't be surprised if he figures it out on his own." She slowly rose from the table and collected her purse and keys.
"And you won't be doing this alone," she told me. "No matter how much you want to avoid it, you're going to have to talk to Nahuel. And the sooner the better."
Of course she was right. She usually was. It's just that I had no idea what to say to him, or even if he'd care to listen when I did figure out what to say.
I did the only thing I could: Push the issue to a mental back burner and focus on more mundane matters, like preparing the Clearwater residence to receive the strangest guest it had ever hosted. And that was saying something, considering the place was inhabited by shape-shifters.
SSW/SSW/SSW
Mom insisted on making a big dinner to welcome Nahuel.
"Mom, we don't even know if he likes human food," I cautioned her, watching her pull a dozen thick steaks from the freezer. Eating with him, feeding him, seemed so ordinary, and somehow insignificant, considering the pivotal impact he was going to have on my life. Was already having, I mentally corrected myself.
"Hospitality is always appropriate," she replied, as if she'd read my thought. "And everybody likes steak. Even if he doesn't like it, it's not as if the food will go to waste with Seth here."
The aforementioned human Hoover bopped into the kitchen just as Mom was putting the finishing touches on a huge bowl of potato salad. He took one look at the mound of meat on the counter and broke into a loopy grin. "Steak? Awesome! Is this because Nahuel is coming and we want to impress him?"
"Why would we want to impress him?" I snapped at my kid brother. Fortunately, Seth was too lost in anticipation of a feast to question my over-reaction to his innocent comment.
He raised his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I don't know! Just asking. So you want me to fire up the grill?"
"Get cleaned up first, and then you can start the grill," Mom said, tapping him lightly on the rump. She watched Seth disappear down the hall, heading toward our tiny bathroom, before turning to me. "Did Jacob say what time they'd get here?"
At that moment, I heard two distinct sounds: the wheezing cough of Jake's prehistoric pickup as it pulled into our driveway and—far louder and more terrifying—the thumping of my heart as it skipped into hyper-drive. I could barely get words out around the invisible talon that was clenched around my throat and dragging me relentlessly toward the front door.
"They're here now."
I stumbled to a halt a few steps short of the door, unable to look away from it. Two sets of footsteps approached over our gravel driveway. I knew Jake's tread as well as my own. The other …
The doorbell rang. That tinny, cheesy chime had never sounded so ominous before, not even on the day Charlie Swan rang it to tell us my father had died. He'd lived his life believing all vampires, even the Cullens, were a threat to our tribe. What would he think of his daughter imprinting on a half-vampire?
Mom came up behind me, glancing from the door to the spot where I stood rooted like a tree stump. "Aren't you going to open it for them?"
I looked at her, desperate for help. I couldn't move my arms or legs, and I was trying. I shook my head, panicked, pleading with my eyes for her to do something. She reached up and gently rubbed my back before stepping around me and opening the door.
Jake's enormous form filled the doorway. "Hey, Sue," he greeted her, bending down to give her a quick one-armed hug. A stuffed leather duffel dangled from his other hand. I caught the faint whiff of vampire from it and wrinkled my nose. More donated clothes, no doubt.
Jake caught the direction of my gaze and handed the duffel to Mom. "You might want to wash those right away. Esme tried to get the smell out of them, but you know how it is."
Mom laughed nervously and stepped back from Jake, not being the least bit subtle about the fact that she was trying to peer around him. Jake gave me an encouraging smile, and then stepped into the house, revealing Nahuel behind him.
My half-vampire imprint—My imprint!—stood on our weather-beaten front porch. His hands were fisted inside the pockets of his borrowed jeans, which were brand new, of course, because no Cullen ever wore any article of clothing more than once. His shoulders were hunched and his whole body seemed stooped forward, his eyes downcast and fixed on the toes of his shoes (also new). He looked like he was desperately trying to disappear. Or evaporate.
I couldn't help myself. I stared, taking inventory of every line of his body and face. It was like I was seeing him for the first time, and in a sense, I was.
I thought I'd been prepared to see him up close, because I knew, intellectually, that all vampires were beautiful. Visual appeal was part of their predatory arsenal, how they drew human victims to them. And I'd certainly seen my share of stunning vampires. So I thought I knew how his appearance would affect me, both physically and emotionally.
I didn't know a damn thing.
He was more beautiful than any vampire I'd ever seen. Even lost and broken as he so obviously was, he was more intoxicating, more compelling, more heart-breaking … just more. Shorter than Jake or Seth, he still had a few inches on me. His skin was a flawless, rich brown that made me think of sweet, light coffee. His mouth was sensual yet serious, with an enticing fullness to his lower lip. His hair, too short for my taste and glossy blue-black like a raven's wing, made my fingers itch to touch it. He was breathtakingly beautiful but in a wholly masculine way.
In the dwindling sunlight of the late summer afternoon, every inch of his damnable perfection was on display except for his eyes, which were still trained on his shoes.
Then, as if he, too, could sense that invisible cable tightening, he looked up, meeting my gaze. I felt those psychic hooks punch in deeper, piercing through my breast bone, sinking into my trip-hammering heart, squeezing tight until I felt sure the damn thing would explode.
The universe held its breath, and I was certain there wasn't anything—not an earth quake, tornado or even the arrival of Nahuel's psychotic father—that could make me tear my eyes away from his. Of course, my brother proved me wrong.
Like a badly trained over-grown puppy, Seth bounded into the living room and right up to Nahuel. I'd forgotten that my brother had spent part of the day with Jacob at the Cullen house. He must have met Nahuel there already.
"Hey, man! Good to see you again. C'mon in." Trust Seth to totally miss the tension in the room. Nahuel broke our stare and gave Seth a tentative smile.
"Hello, Seth," he said. Two simple, innocuous words. Yet a wave of craven, shameless lust swept through my body at the sound of his voice. Deep and rich like his eyes, the timbre fell somewhere between the hymns of heaven and the whispered temptations of Lucifer.
Finally he stepped over our threshold to stand next to Jake. Seth dropped his arm around Mom's shoulder. "This is my mom, Sue Clearwater. She's one of our tribal elders."
"Welcome to our home, Nahuel," she said. "I'm so sorry for your loss." My mother smiled kindly and offered her hand.
As if she were meeting a pleasant new acquaintance at the reservation's community center instead of a century-and-a-half old vampire who had her only daughter in a biological headlock. I groaned inwardly. My whole family was just too damned used to weird shit. It wasn't normal. Or healthy.
Nahuel was obviously surprised by her gesture and words, but recovered quickly and gave her hand a brief shake.
"Thank you, Mrs. Clearwater," he said in that voice that made my stomach flutter and my mouth go dry. "I appreciate your hospitality. I will do my best to not be any more of a burden to your family than I must."
"You're no burden, man," Seth said, clapping him on the shoulder and pulling him further into the room. "This is what we Quileute werewolves do, fight evil vampires. When Joham shows up here, he'll be in for a majorly nasty surprise."
It was impossible to miss the sudden polar shift in Nahuel's demeanor at the mere mention of his father's name. He cringed visibly. A hunted look crept across his face. He shuddered and shrank in on himself again, eyes darting around the room.
Shit, he's two steps away from a total panic attack. It's almost like post-traumatic stress or something. He's going to lose it right here in my living room!
Somehow I knew he would hate to appear weak in front of my small, fragile and painfully kind human mother. I did the only thing I could think of to divert his mind. I stepped forward and extended my hand, mimicking my mother's soft approach.
"I'm Leah," I said, willing him to register and absorb my calm, even tone. "You're safe here. Please come in and sit down. Mom's making dinner. Are you hungry?"
Nahuel's eyes stopped their frenzied flitting and zeroed in on me. He stared at my extended hand for just a moment before slowly, oh so slowly, wrapping his long fingers around mine.
Heat surged up my arm from the light pressure of his hand. Once, when we were really little kids, Seth had dared me to jam a penny into a wall socket. The touch of Nahuel's hand felt exactly like that electrical shock—except more intense and totally, deliriously erotic. That simple, innocent contact was as arousing and intimate as a kiss.
"Leah," he breathed.
I forgot my mother and brother standing expectantly beside us. Forgot Jake standing there lump-like and useless. Hell, I wouldn't have recognized my own name if he hadn't just turned it into the single most beautiful sound I'd ever heard.
"I remember you."
My thundering heart skipped a beat. He remembers me?
Had I affected him so deeply six years ago? Was he feeling the aching pull, too? Was he as confused and utterly connected as I was? I knew I looked like an idiot, but I couldn't help myself. A big, stupid grin erupted on my face.
"You do?"
"Yes." His warm brown eyes abruptly turned hard and angry, but he didn't let go of my hand.
"You called me a coward."
End Note: So the boy shows some attitude. Now that Nahuel's thrown down the gauntlet, how will Leah respond? Reviews make me feel all sparkly, so please let me know what you think. As always, thanks for reading!