Fallback
Part VI (Inspired by House):
Long time no see, Death. Bella thinks, but all she feels is the lack of fear. After all, she has married Death, has accepted Pluto's jewels and become his willing consort. But would Aro mourn her? Instinctively, she knows the answer is no. What differentiates me from Lola? Does 'art' make me more than a pet?
The vampire, his knife still skimming her throat, leans in and inhales…before staggering back. What surprises her more though is the vapor-thin vision that she has not seen in years. Edward Cullen, the ghost of days long past. This connection…she will never understand it, but she knows that the unearthly voice will never wish her ill so she listens.
"Tell him who you are. Tell him that you have powerful friends."
And Bella obeys. The tactic will buy her time. Perhaps, it will even scare this rogue away.
"You smell it, don't you?" she asks. "The scent of the vampire on me. It's not just any vampire. You've heard of the Volturi ,haven't you?"
The knife lowers an inch, and Edward's apparition instructs her again.
"Remind him how the Volturi show their displeasure."
Boldly, Bella grasps the dull edge of the knife and pushes it away. "My death will cause my patron, Aro, to feel quite irritated. You don't want to be the source of that irritation, do you?"
The vampire's eyes are scarlet, she notes. He hasn't eaten for days probably, but even hunger stalls as he considers her bluff.
"Get away from her."
The clipped voice is accompanied by the sound of stilettos on asphalt as Heidi strides into view. Clinically, Heidi gazes at the other vampire, and Bella remembers Aro explaining how even vampires lived within a social structure.
"Creatures like these, scrounging in alleyways like rats," Heidi sneers. "They need to be taught a little refinement."
Bella knows what's coming, and no one stops her from fleeing the alley. Only a couple of minutes later, Heidi catches up with her.
"Woah Bells! Shall we celebrate your near-death experience?"
Heidi's eyes are dilated, the irises a warm color like melted butter.
"I had a boy earlier today," she explains. "Rendez-vous in the club. High on meth. Delicious." Like a wicked child, she opens the clasp of her Chanel purse and pulls out a small bag. "I stole his stash, but it's not like he has any use for it anymore. All yours Bells. Don't tell Aro."
Like a restless animal, Bella paces in the hotel room. Heidi has left, but dots of meth remain on the desk. A red stain, spilt wine, trails down the left side of her shirt, and she moves barefoot, lighting candles and blowing them out to savor a few seconds of sweet, sensual scent.
I shouldn't have called him. Shouldn't have. Shouldn't have.
An insistent, persistent knock on the door breaks through her thoughts, and then a muffled word that sounds like her name.
It is her name, and it's Edward when she opens the door, and it's not a dream, not a dream, she waves him in and then pushes him to the bed. His hands are resistant, and with tears in her voice, she asks Why Why do you still not want me?
"You're high," Edward says. Always so solemn, always so saintly.
"You're so moral," Bella replies and envelops him until she can no longer differentiate his smell from that of the candles. She is inviting, and he is…gradually accepting. Slowly, they build heat or have they knocked the candles over? The whole room could be burning, but Bella feels as if she were a new baby star, supernova, molten lava, desperate to shed the heat onto him. Heart pounding, she looks up at him and gasps,
"Are you real? Am I making a fool of myself? Maybe…I'm just making love to a pillow."
And he pulls back, shame creasing his face.
"You shouldn't do that," she murmurs against his ear. "Gives you wrinkles."
He laughs without joy, but even she can feel that the atmosphere has changed.
"You're high," he repeats and untangles himself from her. For a moment, she holds back her breath because he disappears, but then he returns with a wet towel and wipes her face.
"I'm not leaving," Edward promises, and this time, he doesn't.