A/N: The amazing, ever-insightful MunkeeRajah and Evelyn beta'd this chapter. They plug my plot holes, police my commas and make my lemons super citrusy. Thanks, ladies!
Twilight belongs to Stephanie Meyer.
Chapter 6 – Absolute Beginners
Leah POV
The crescent moon crept over the treetops as I loped through the forest. A light drizzle made the ground loamy beneath my paws and glossed every leaf and branch with softly shimmering beads.
After a tiring day at work, and a boring, fruitless patrol, I was yearning for a hot shower and some sack time. Oh yeah, and a reprieve, please, from my nearly endless mental replay of that humiliating first meeting with my imprint five days ago.
In the history of unlikely pairings was there ever a couple that got off to a worse start?
I remember you. You called me a coward.
"You didn't!" Mom had admonished, clearly appalled by my alleged rudeness. Okay, my actual rudeness. Delighted at my embarrassment, Seth had made a big show of laughing so hard he collapsed on the floor. Jake hadn't even tried to hide his smirk.
At least Seth's antics had broken the tension enough for me to mumble a half-assed apology, and that had made the big jerk laugh even harder. My traitorous mother had looped her arm through Nahuel's like they were old friends and towed him away for a "grand tour" of our three-bedroom ranch.
As mortifying and confusing as that first exchange with Nahuel had been, it was what Jake had told me privately later that really had my mind whirling in stressed circles. Standing beside his pickup, he'd said that Alice had found multiple blind spots in her vision, meaning we could expect more than one wave of attack.
"Maybe some scouts will show up first," Jake had said. "We can't be sure, so we'll all need to be extra careful."
Then, he'd relayed a warning from Edward and Carlisle. Why are they telling me anything? I'd wondered. We don't even like each other. And I felt instantly guilty because Carlisle at least had never been anything but considerate and helpful to me.
"They wanted me to tell you to be careful with Nahuel," Jake had said. "Carlisle thinks he's suffering from post-traumatic stress syndrome. You know, that disorder soldiers experience after battle? Edward agrees. Says Nahuel could be hair-trigger and possibly even dangerous."
I knew they might be right, that what Nahuel had experienced—the trauma of his aunt's murder, his father's insanity and brutality—could lead to erratic, maybe even destructive behavior. I also knew he was venomous; he'd changed his aunt by biting her minutes after his birth. His venom made him dangerous to other humans, and especially to us wolves, in a way Renesmee was not.
I'd agreed to be careful, if for no other reason than to give Jake some peace of mind. But secretly, I'd told myself that the emotionally fragile and pathetic half-vampire getting ready to settle into my brother's room for the night couldn't possibly harm my family or me.
I'd been both right and wrong.
He was wonderful with my mother. He ate her meals with gusto, kept up his end of the conversation no matter how mundane it must have seemed to him, and even helped her with the dinner dishes every night. The fond smiles and gentle touches she gave him hinted that she would consider him the perfect son-in-law if it weren't for the whole venomous half-vampire thing. I had no idea who this woman was, but she was not the vampire-hating harpy who raised me, that was for sure.
Nearly every day Jake escorted Nahuel to the Cullens' house, where Carlisle continued to monitor his health and Jasper provided battle training. He was respectful and amiable to them all, from what Jake told me. And he seemed to have developed the same affection for Seth that practically everyone else with a pulse, or without one, felt toward the muscle-bound twerp.
Vamp-boy's attitude toward me, however, was slowly driving me mad.
Was it possible to kill someone with aloof politeness? He sure seemed to be trying. If I attempted to make conversation, he tactfully found something else to do. If he was alone in a room and I entered it, he courteously wandered elsewhere. I couldn't even complain about his behavior to my mother because she was already his biggest fan
Talk about passive-aggressive. His civility and avoidance were his way of punishing me for insulting him at first sight. Apparently, Nahuel didn't just hold grudges, he nurtured them.
I tried to act as if nothing had changed in my life. I went to work every day in the stock room of the tire store owned by one of the tribal elders. Ran patrols. Tried to pretend that it didn't hurt every time he wrenched on that damned invisible cable with an infuriatingly polite brush-off here or a disinterested glance there.
My thoughts returned to the present as my home appeared through the trees. I phased in the underbrush, sprinted across the yard on two legs, and slipped quietly into the house. Seth snored loudly on the sleeper-sofa. Generous as always, he'd given his room to Nahuel without hesitation or complaint.
I didn't bother to turn on any lights as I padded through the dark house. I didn't bother with clothes, either. Seth and Mom had seen me in the altogether plenty of times already, an unavoidable reality of life as a shape-shifter. And if Nahuel happened to open his door and get an eyeful, well, maybe the free show would finally get a real reaction out of him.
As I passed his door, I paused, listening. Quiet and even, his breathing assured me he was sleeping peacefully for a change.
He'd had nightmares nearly every night. Waking us with his screaming seriously marred his record as a perfect house guest. When I'd entered his room to check on him that first night, he'd snarled at me like an animal. At that point, we'd all decided that it would be better to let him deal with his nightmares on his own. Each morning, he was back to normal, or whatever passed for his normal, and he said nothing about his dreams.
In my room, I pulled on sleep shorts and a tank before opening my bedroom window to let in the cool night air. My dad had central air put in the house years ago, but I wanted to feel the natural breeze on my skin. Maybe it would help clear my head.
Exhausted, I flopped face-down on the bed. As sleep dragged me under, I thought I heard a velvety whisper.
"I remember you …"
SSW/SSW/SSW
Tonight it was silence, not screaming, that woke me. I bolted upright in bed, the muscles in my arms and legs so tense they were on the verge of cramping painfully.
In just five short days, I'd gotten used to the sound of four heartbeats in my home at night. I'd come to know that fourth beat as well as I knew my own. Now, in the space that should have been filled with the sound of Nahuel's heart thrumming steady and fast, I heard only silence.
I scrambled from my bed, tripped on the sheet tangled around my legs, and stumbled across the room. I jerked open the bedroom door before remembering that it was the dead of night and Mom and Seth were still sleeping. From the living room, the rumble of Seth's snores confirmed that he was deep in la-la land. The door to my parents' room was closed, and I could hear my mother's steady, peaceful breathing beyond it.
Across the hall, a rumpled, empty bed was visible through the open door of Nahuel's room.
Quickly, quietly, I searched the house. There weren't many places for him to hide. I passed through the living room where Seth was sprawled across the sleeper-sofa wearing nothing but his tightey-whiteys, a slather of saliva smeared on his face. The kitchen was empty, as was the tiny laundry room next to it.
Nahuel wasn't in the house. My already-racing heart kicked into overdrive and my hands began to shake. He wasn't supposed to leave the house without Jake, Seth or me. I didn't want to think about the trouble he could get into wandering around on his own.
I checked the back door that led outside from the kitchen. It was closed but unlocked. My mother was obsessive about locking doors at night, even though she knew a deadbolt wouldn't stop any newborn sent by Joham.
Fuck. Where did he go? What the hell is he doing?
I needed to track him. The easiest way would be to simply open myself to the imprinting connection and allow it to lead me to him. But if anyone else in the pack was on four feet when I did that, he would realize what I was doing and my privacy would be over. I stepped outside and pulled the door shut behind me. In the shadow of the eave over the back door, I stripped and phased. Instantly, I caught the distant thoughts of Embry, who had relieved me from patrol duty a few hours ago.
'Sup, Leah?
Everything's cool, I told him, carefully keeping my thoughts focused on the moment. Even though Jake was blocking awareness of my imprint from the other pack members, I didn't want to risk thinking about Nahuel too much while Embry was listening in.
I think our guest went for a midnight stroll. I'm just going to find him and get him back to the house. Don't think the elders would like him running the res without supervision.
You're probably right! Howl if you need me. I'm all the way on the other side of Forks right now, but I could be there fast if you want.
Thanks, I'm good, though. 'Scuse me, but I gotta focus here. I hoped Embry would buy that as justification for my tuning him out.
I slowly began to circle the house, nose to the ground, my clothes clenched in my teeth. The shorts and shirt would be covered with dirt and drool when I put them back on. Ah, the joys of werewolfhood.
I caught Nahuel's scent heading down the driveway and followed it to the road. It totally weirded me out that he smelled like cinnamon and spice, comfort and lust. At least that's how he smelled to me, and I sure as hell wasn't going to ask Jake or Seth if they found my imprint's aroma as exotic as I did.
Our house was nearly a mile from the nearest neighbor and several miles from the main part of the reservation. I thought at first he might be heading into town, but a mile down the road, his scent turned off the pavement and into the forest, aiming toward the beach. Between work and patrolling, I hadn't been to La Push in a dog's age, but it looked like my imprint was headed there.
It didn't take long to reach La Push, and as soon as my paws touched the sand, I knew he was there. The bouquet of Nahuel's scent was much stronger, and I could hear his familiar heartbeat, even above the rushing sound of the waves rolling onto the beach.
Found him, I sent Embry's way, then quickly phased to human form so I could shut him out of my head. I threw on my damp, dirty clothes and strode onto the beach. Now that my mind was isolated from Embry, it was safe to allow myself to be guided by Nahuel's powerful pull.
At the base of a large stone outcropping that faced the ocean, I found Nahuel sitting in a puddle of sea water. He wore nothing but his borrowed boxers. His knees were drawn up against his chest and his muscular arms were clenched tight around his bent legs. His dark head was burrowed into his kneecaps, hiding his face. He rocked back and forth in rapid, jerky motions.
Pain punched through my chest and forced the air from my lungs, as if someone twice my size had just kicked me in the solar plexus. He looked lost, shattered and utterly alone.
I was pretty sure he wouldn't be happy to see me, but I couldn't leave him here. I'd rather have him angry at me than leave him alone in this condition.
I shuffled forward in the sand, trying to make enough noise to alert him to my presence.
"Nahuel?"
He didn't lift his head or give any indication that he heard me, just continued his obsessive rocking. I took a few more steps, until I was standing directly over him, and called his name again. He stopped swaying, but still didn't unclench his body from his balled-up posture.
Unsure of what to do, I sank to my knees beside him in the wet sand.
"What are you doing out here?" I ventured, trying to keep my tone neutral. I didn't want him to think I was angry at him for taking off on his own. Although I was pissed. And scared.
If I'd been an ordinary human, I wouldn't have caught his muffled reply; but I was a werewolf, and he was my imprint. I'd have heard his whisper if we were standing on opposite ends of a wind tunnel with head-banging heavy metal music piped in at full volume.
"Getting away from you."
That chest-punched feeling slammed into me again, so strong this time it rocked me back on my heels. Those four words from him hurt more than any of the thousands Sam had spoken when he was trying to explain and apologize for imprinting on Emily. My first instinct was to shout, "Fuck you!" Leave him here alone. Let Joham have his sorry, half-vampire ass, no matter how good it looked in those boxers.
As I tensed my muscles to propel myself away from him, I heard his breath catch. He slowly levered his head out of his arms, turning his face toward me. His eyes were clenched shut, tears shimmering on his impossibly long lashes.
"I have to get away from you and Seth and Sue," he choked out. "I have to get away from the Cullens. Before he follows me here and kills you all."
Understanding dawned, quickly followed by relief so strong it made me feel physically weak. Because he wants to protect us. Not because he wants to leave me.
I moved without thinking. Miraculously, my hand didn't tremble as I grabbed his shoulder and shook it. "Look at me, Nahuel," I ordered, infusing my voice with strength and calm I certainly wasn't feeling. The electric charge of our skin-to-skin contact finally forced his eyes open. They focused on mine, desperate and bewildered.
"Your leaving wouldn't stop him from coming here," I told him, careful to avoid saying his father's name. "He knows about Renesmee now and he wants you both. We can't undo that. We can only stand together and fight him when he does come."
He studied me for a long moment with his honey-hued eyes, as if considering what I'd said. Slowly, he uncurled his arms from around his legs, relaxing his position so that he now sat cross-legged in the sand. Still hunched over, he resumed his rocking, but now the movement was more distracted than frantic. I dropped my tingling hand into my lap.
"The day I left six years ago, I began thinking about returning here," he said. "I so admired the Cullens and the life they have made for themselves. I admired their ability to live with compassion among humans."
He gazed out over the waves that crashed onto the sand yards away from where we sat. I felt like he was talking to the surf now, as if he'd forgotten I was there beside him.
"I wanted that for myself," he continued quietly. "I had thought myself a monster by nature my entire life. Only a truly evil creature would slaughter the person who gave it life. I did not know any other way to live or to think about myself, but I was tired of being a monster. I returned home and became a … vegetarian."
I couldn't breathe as he uttered the euphemism the Cullens used to describe vampires who live on animal blood rather than human. If preying on animals was a lifestyle change for him, then that meant my worst fears were confirmed: He had fed on humans in the past.
In the very instant my mind screamed in anguish, wondering how I could be with someone who had taken innocent lives, that damned psychic cable smacked sharply, hurtfully against my heart. Its message was clear.
His past didn't matter at all. I wanted him. He needed me. There was nothing else beyond that.
He was talking again. "But feeding on the blood of animals made me weak. I could not protect Huilen, could not fight my sire. Only my half-sister's pity saved me from him."
Abruptly, he leaped to his feet. His fingers twisted in his hair, pulling hard, as if pain would make it easier to keep talking, to keep unburdening himself of these thoughts that were tormenting him.
"Now I am here and I have put you all in danger. Living on human food and animal blood, I will never be strong enough to fight him." His hands moved from his hair to his eyes, scrubbing at them hard before settling over his lips. "Yet I cannot go back to being the monster I was that preyed on humans," he continued, his voice muffled and his face haunted, "no matter how physically powerful that would make me."
He dropped his hands and turned to me. "The only way I can think to stop him from following me is to take away what he most wants. If I am dead, he will have no reason to come here. The Cullens, Seth, Sue … you … will all be safe."
He took a single tentative step toward me, his mournful eyes begging me to understand. "Help me, Leah," he pleaded. "Help me make everyone safe."
I understood exactly what he was asking of me. Fury exploded through my body, burning, white-hot fury powerful enough to bring down a jumbo jet or level a city.
"You selfish, self-pitying son of a bitch," I seethed. "You come here. You practically leave Joham a freaking map and engraved invitation. You make everyone care about you. You make my mother and brother love you. You turn my life upside down."
I was shouting at the top of my lungs now, my voice completely over-powering the pounding surf. Nahuel gaped at me like a hooked fish on the bottom of a boat. My rant reached critical mass and I couldn't have stopped even if I had wanted to.
"And you think I'm going to help you leave everyone high and dry by killing you?" I howled hoarsely, my throat burning from the sheer volume. "You know what? I take my apology back. You are a coward. A lousy, fucking, selfish coward …"
I knew I'd gone too far, crossed over a line I should never have approached, the second that word was out of my mouth.
Instantly, his glorious, tortured eyes grew diamond-hard. Rage boiled on his angel's face. He covered the short distance between us with a single step, latched his strong hands around my upper arms, and jerked me against his body. His mouth slammed down on mine.
I'd never had anyone force a kiss on me before. You'd think it would have pissed me off even more than I already was. It totally did not.
Disoriented with desire, I buried my fingers in that short, shaggy hair just as I'd been fantasizing about doing for days. His lips were not gentle and his hands gripped my arms so tightly it hurt. That's going to leave a mark, I thought hazily.
My body vibrated with lust, molding along the length of his muscled form so closely I didn't know where my skin left off and his began. His tongue swept inside my mouth, leading mine in a maddening duel that left me yearning for more. I moaned into his mouth. The sound made him even wilder and more aggressive. One hand came up to tangle in the hair at my nape while the other moved south to my ass. When that hand flexed and pressed me forward, I felt the hard proof of his desire throbbing against my stomach.
The effect of his erection grinding into my body was like drinking a gallon of coffee after an all-night bender: instantly head-clearing. As his mouth continued to move on mine and his hands grew bolder, I realized that what he wanted and what he needed from me were, at this moment, two entirely different things.
He wanted to fuck me senseless. He wanted a respite from overwhelming fear and despair, and sex would give him that. My body was totally in tune with that plan, but my head knew what he really needed from me was not a quick hump in the sand.
He needed a reason to stay alive and fight his father.
Pushing weakly on his shoulders, I turned my head, moving my lips out of his reach. He ignored the hint. His hot mouth roved down my jawline to my throat, licking and sucking greedily. I shivered.
If he bites me, I'm dead. What a way to go …
He was muttering something, heated words in a language I didn't know. His hands slipped under my clothes, one driving my tank up my back, the other delving lower beneath the waistband of my shorts. Oh God, his hands, his mouth, his smell! Move now or you're not going to be able to stop.
I tore my body from his and stumbled a step backward. Losing contact with his deliciously warm skin felt like plunging into an ice bath.
His head might not be feeling the effects of the imprinting—might never feel them—but his body certainly was. If I played my cards right, I could use his lust to my advantage. I wouldn't be the first woman to use sex to manipulate a man.
Nahuel obviously wasn't ready to stop. He gasped rapidly, raggedly, his teak eyes dark and hooded with hunger—for my flesh, not my blood. He reached for me as if he would draw me back into his arms. I took another step back.
"We need to stop," I said, my voice shaking badly.
Anger replaced the lust in his eyes. "Why?" he ground out through gritted teeth. "You want me. I have smelled it on you all week. And I want you. If we are going to die soon anyway, why deny ourselves what we both desire?"
Guess he was done playing his game of "let's pretend Leah doesn't exist." Thank God. I didn't think we'd be going back to pretending we had no mutual attraction, not after this. But I wasn't ready to let this move forward, either.
"We are not going to die," I said, putting another two paces between us. "I admit that I want you, too, but neither of us is ready for this. And this is definitely not the time or the place."
He was listening. Breaking our physical contact had helped clear his head, too. "I'm not saying no," I continued. "I'm just saying not now. Not yet. But 'not yet' is going to become 'not on your life' if you ever bring up the idea of suicide again. Got it?"
He considered my words for a few moments, his gaze wandering between my lips and my eyes. Finally, wordlessly, he nodded, and I realized I'd been holding my breath.
"Good," I said, giving him a weak smile. "We should go back to the house. This beach isn't exactly the safest spot for us right now."
When he nodded again, I turned to leave the beach and lead him home. He followed me silently through the night, and I smiled to myself.
I think I've found a use for that miserable psychic cable, I thought. It just might be the key to keeping Nahuel alive.
End note: Hot enough for you? We're just getting started!