AN/ I own nothing of Twilight, just my little plot line, and any changes to recognizable canon, and non-canon characters. I do not get nor do I seek any recompense for this work. I thank S Meyer for her benevolent generosity to her fandom in allowing us latitude to play with her universe.
** Summary: Alice's visions of Jasper ended not long before the meeting in the Philly diner. What happens when Jasper eventually meets the Cullens? What actually happened to change his destiny? Some non-canon couples, OOC behavior. Jasper/Bella pairing. **
Publishing a bit early, not sure what the week will bring.
Previously in Honor and Duty: Who am I? Most in my world regard me with equal amounts of fear and revulsion. Few know my true name, most recognize the name time and fate have gifted me. All of them recognize the name of my employers. I am Jasper Whitlock, Maj., 8th Regiment, Texas Cavalry, CSA (ret.), and for a time, the Demon of the South. Though all of that defines me, the most important and germane of my identities today is this: I am Volturi.
I have kept careful watch, noting routines and habits, identities and relationships, all the things a good soldier tracks during reconnaissance before entering enemy territory. Enemy territory? I hear a snort deep in my mind. I shrug to myself and return to my watch.
Finally, as the sun kisses the tops of the trees around me and my perch, I see the four younger members of the household leave. Not long after this, a black Mercedes exits the garage. This is consistent to the pattern I'd noted for quite some time. Waiting until I can no longer hear the vehicles, I relax.
The mate to the coven leader, Esme, had hunted with her mate during the weekend just passed. I do not anticipate her leaving the house today. Her established routine at this time of day is to either pursue activities within the house or work in the extensive gardens around the property. Approaching the house, while so many of the coven are away, would be unspeakably rude, not to mention unreasonably threatening. So, I had no intentions of approaching the house at this time. However, she was not noted to be gifted, so a relaxation in my alertness is not an undue risk. However, I must remain ever mindful of the psychic and the mind reader. After all, it is their presence in the coven that necessitated the use of my own particular peculiarities for this task.
My relaxation allows me to engage more of my attention to a final review of my instructions. My task is a simple one in the service of Master Marcus. Master Marcus is in charge of keeping a record of all covens and their dependents. He employs various nomads and correspondence with the larger covens to perform periodic censuses. However, the records and accounting of this particular coven is decades out of date. Master Marcus has tasked me to answer the question of why. Now, in the normal course of things, asking one of the elite Volturi enforcers to perform this task would be like taking a sledgehammer to swat a fly. The threat my true identity carries with it is profound overkill. Might as well say, "Hello, coven. I've come to kill you now, you've been naughty and haven't kept Master Marcus informed of your numbers or whereabouts. Tsk tsk." But the truth is, I'm probably the only member of the Guard that can come here and find the truth, and do so undercover.
"Undercover? Like you can hide all those scars!" the Major snorts deep in my mind. I shrug to myself.
"I've a plan, Major. Or at least a cover story for the scars which should put paid to the questions without actually revealing anything." I think to myself in reply.
"Sweet Lord help us, the boy's got a plan!" I feel the Major step back in my mind, apparently satisfied to wait without asking for more detail.
I grin as I eye the ground beneath me. I'm satisfied with the amount of information I've gathered on this coven by observation. With so many away, and with the last member unlikely to leave the house for a time, now is an excellent opportunity to explore. It's time to discover the extent of the territory claimed by the coven and to finalize my plans on how to approach them. But first, I need out of this tree. Just jumping, while expedient, is not an especially quiet way to dismount. So I carefully climb down the tree, making sure to not sway it unduly. Letting it move as if a large bird or squirrel had forcefully stuck it would not arouse alarm or even notice. Once I had my feet back on the ground, I swiftly moved to a far more polite distance from the house before changing my clothes and placing them in my specially scented and lined bag. These are my scouting clothes, carefully neutralized of vampire scent. Back in the wars, we had discovered that our scent is concentrated on our breath. If a vampire bathes, and holds their breath afterward, no actual scent is produced. Wearing clothing that has not been exposed to our exhalations provides a reasonable scent camouflage. Of course, not breathing is instinctively problematic for us, especially when in new or enemy territory. It completely goes against the grain. But I'd have been reduced to ash long since if I was not in complete control of my instincts. Once my clothing is safely tucked away, I allow myself to breathe for the first time in weeks.
I close my eyes as a whole new universe opens. The distinctive scent of 6 vampires tickle my nose, as well as the rich flora and fauna of the Pacific Northwest. I slowly begin my run, scenting for the distinctive signs of vampire territory warning markers. As I run, circling the house in a spiral pattern, I find myself becoming more and more puzzled. While I encounter trails by the coven, I do not locate anything that is normally posted to warn others that this territory is claimed. Either this coven is claiming an area abnormally large, or they aren't claiming anything. I shake my head, completely mystified. I've been running a while, knowing I'm approaching the Pacific coast when a new scent assaults my nose, making me snap to high alert, my instincts screaming caution. Deep in my mind, I feel the Major and my beast rousing and moving closer to my consciousness, alertness and alarm the primary emotions I feel from my other personalities. Automatically, my feet slow before I step beyond clearly identifiable yet definitely not vampire scent warning markers. Turning to run alongside the boundary, curiosity wakes and new questions crowd my mind. Who or what has placed this boundary and why have I not encountered one set by the Cullen Coven?
See you Sunday!