AN: Well, I'm not the fondest of this chapter, but it'll do. Like I said, big stuff is brewing. Not here quite yet, but close enough, I assure you.

AND BY THE WAY, I TURNED ON ANONYMOUS REVIEWS! So, you know; if you don't have an account and wanna drop me a line, you're now able to. Not that I'm pushing you or anything, but the option's there! :D

And you wanna know what I just thought of? I didn't even think about it as I usually just reply to questions in a review I get in my AN's, and most of the reviews I've ever given never got replied to anyway, but would you guys like me to reply? Wow, that may sound like a weird question, but it was better in my head, I swear.

Either way, even if it makes no difference, I'm going to. It'll be a bit odd to go back and reply, but any reviews from here on out will be replied to, I swear. And in the mean time I'd like to assure you I appreciate everything, even a smiley-face. I do love me some smiley-faces. :D (Exhibit A)

But yes, I just had this revelation as I was writing this chapter. I was just thinking about how cool it was when I wrote to an author in a review and they replied back—it always made me feel how I'd guess it would be to talk to an actual published author, simply because everyone I've read on here is awesome. Way better than the stuff I try to post, lol.

So I wanted that out there. Other than that…there's nothing for me to say here. I'll allow you time to read and if you do review, I will reply this time, I swear on my life!

Immolation Chapter 12: Alleys

"Every once in a while, I find that my bad luck has no boundaries whatsoever…"

Peter surveyed the small area closely, wiping dirt from his brow and throwing the shovel into the forest. He simply didn't want to have to carry it back only to return it to the garbage can he'd found it in, and there weren't any hiking trails nearby, so why did it matter?

And it looked like he was in the clear now—the crater was covered and random shrubs and grasses had been planted above it. So, in a way, it looked like it never happened. No one would look too closely anyway, so he didn't have anything to worry about.

He looked up at the dark sky. A storm was brewing and because of that it looked to be around nine at night when it was actually only four in the afternoon. He sighed, not exactly fond of the dreary town he was in, and took to the sky. At least he had been right in wearing dark clothing.

He loved flying. It had to be the best sensation in the world—the wind whipping at your skin and hair, a feeling of weightlessness, the slight condensation misting your face. He didn't know what could be better.

He looked down at Forks, watching the little people. He could recognize a few from work or something, but no one saw him, which was good. But suddenly, he didn't like what he saw—it was a dark, abandoned alley right behind the library, and a group of men were gathered around something. He identified it as a struggling woman, who they had pushed against the wall of the library aggressively. Her shouts rang out unanswered.

He immediately landed around the deserted corner, turned, and what he saw next gave him quite the shock. It was Bella against the wall, men laughing and taunting her.

"No, let go of me!" she shouted at them, more angry than afraid as she tried to struggle. But she was pinned.

"Not this time, hun."

She didn't say anything else as she struggled, and he seemed to have the breath knocked out of him as he saw a woman he knew about to get violated that way. Something seemed to take over—his blood ran cold with a heady mix of fear, fury, and adrenaline. Everything was skewed with a reddish tinge.

He wasn't sure what happened. Men flew and blood was spilt, bones were most likely broken. He was out of it—but when he came to, it was only Bella and him, standing alone in the alley, unconscious men littering the street around them. His eyes drifted over to her, and she stood against the wall with a strange expression on her face. Her breathing was heavy.

"Thank you," she choked out.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She obviously wasn't experiencing shock, but her features were twisted with something that looked like worry.

She ran up to him suddenly, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing. He didn't expect it and looked down at her, to see her head buried in his shirt. He wasn't quite sure how to react.

"What's wrong?"

She didn't respond, only squeezed him tighter. He wasn't about to pry her off, but they did need to get going. "Do you want me to take you back to your house?"

She shook her head, but seemed to realize that they did need to leave before someone came to answer her calls and found just the two of them in what was obviously more than a bit of a scuffle. She stepped back a few steps and was now a foot away, but that strange face remained as her eyes met his. They locked and he couldn't look away as he tried to figure out just what he saw there.

Finding that he was still unable to get anything but that worry and a small something else from her gaze, he reached out to her. "Are you alright?" he asked again.

She paused, genuinely thinking over her answer. "I will be. Let's go." She reached for his hand, but he brought her to him, picked her up, and flew into the sky. "Your house, please," she added, before shutting her eyes against the wind.

III

We landed outside his house, and I could see the TV on inside. I looked briefly at it but switched my gaze to him. He had set me down but hadn't let go of me, which was slightly odd, though I wasn't about to complain. His fingers were warm through my shirt as I recalled today.

His questions of whether or not I was alright came to mind. Immediately I wanted to say yes, to forget about what happened, but the look in his eyes had made me hesitate in that. He was looking for a genuine, truthful answer, and I had no choice but to give it to him.

At that moment, in the alley with those very same men from all those months ago, I hadn't been okay. I had been scared that they were going to get back up, hurt me—or probably even worse; hurt him. I wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.

But as far as mental state, I was okay. Shaken, yes, but after so long in danger I had learned to get used to instances like that. Of course at the time I had been both angry and terrified—no one was there to save me and I was surely going to pay for slipping through their grasp once. I doubted that I'd even live through it.

Then like magic Peter appeared. I remember his face, so furious, as he pulled them off me. He was able to pick them off like nothing, flinging them into the nearby walls and even giving the one who was holding me an extra blow or two. And then when he turned to me, for just the slightest moment, I thought I could see something else burning in his eyes. Although at the time my mind was slightly hazy and I wasn't the best source.

But now we were here and he was looking down into my eyes. His grip tightened imperceptibly as I locked mine on his—I wouldn't have even caught it if I hadn't been so focused on the feel of his hands. Though I was more focused elsewhere—on that same expression I could have sworn flashed over his face only briefly as he looked at me in the alley.

Maybe I was hallucinating, the shock getting to my head, but I also, at this moment, could have sworn he was closer to me than where he had started. I licked my lips subconsciously and our eye contact broke as he looked down at them, but the intensity only grew. It was like electricity was in the air and I couldn't breathe.

"Guys?" Claire poked her head around the door curiously and looked out at us. "I thought I heard Peter land. Hey Bella." She smiled at me and I backed away from Peter, my eyes suddenly wide, caught red-handed. My face flooded, matching my red shirt.

In her smile, though, it seemed something was hidden. Whether it was a darker humor or no humor at all, I didn't like the tainted expression she gave me. It seemed tighter and unnatural. "So what are you guys doing out here?" Was there another implication to that or was I simply paranoid? After all, I had a feeling I would have moved forward and kissed her uncle had she not stopped me, which would be something I would have paid for in guilt later on.

And I couldn't thank her enough for that. Though the desire was great—I'd admit it, because after that I would be crazy to keep denying that I was attracted to Peter—I also didn't want to see the disgusted look on his face as he pushed me away and vowed never to speak to me again. Of course I would deserve it, but nonetheless, it was a situation better left avoided.

"We just landed. Peter saved me," I responded, probably too late to look natural. Though she didn't comment on the timing, merely widened her eyes and walked down the steps and over to me.

"Saved you? What happened?" She gave me a once-over and looked into my eyes, finding nothing wrong.

"Um…there were these guys," I began, blushing. It almost seemed like a long time ago, and I was more embarrassed than scared at this point. Although the memory of their hands on me elicited anger and slight fear, but more than anything it was simply disgust. "In an alley."

There was recognition on her face and she seemed to freeze for an immeasurable amount of time. Everything stilled as Peter and I watched her, carefully avoiding looking at each other. Her eyes were the only thing to move as they roved over me. "Nothing happened," I could have sworn I heard the silence shatter as I spoke. "Peter stopped it. I'm fine now."

Her breath whooshed out of her and she wrapped her arms loosely around me. "That's good. That's really good." I didn't know what else to do but respond to her hug in kind.

For a moment the world stilled again, but I was happier this time—I was unharmed and here with two of my favorite people in the world. And suddenly I remembered the reason I had been at the library in the first place.

I brought my arms from around Claire and looked at her only for a moment. I knew I would have to eventually…I forced my eyes to Peter, who immediately met them with his. I liked my lips again and looked away, shame pulsing through me like blood—I had about to kiss him, I just knew it. A second later and Claire would have walked in on me forcing myself onto her uncle…what a picture.

I shook those thoughts away and brought up my findings, "Turns out Lauren lives just down the block from you guys."

"Really? Freaky," Claire said, but I laughed.

"Claire, it's not all that freaky when you've got a town the size of my pinkie finger," I wiggled said finger in the air to bring my point home. "So, Peter, let's go." I began to walk down the street in the direction of her house, but his disbelieving voice stopped me.

"'Let's'? Bella, you can't go." I froze and swiveled to face him.

"But—"

He shook his head. "Neither of you can. It's too dangerous and I don't want you guys in harm's way."

Claire burst out at that. "Hey, I can't be in danger!"

He simply shook his head again, but I wasn't about to give up. I stepped forward; my best pout on my face, determination making me puff my chest out only slightly. "I can help you with my power and Claire can't get hurt! There's no way you're leaving us behind."

He stared at me for a minute, his eyes scrutinizing me. I began to worry he was angry and about to just leave, but he sighed. "Fine, I could probably use you guys just in case. But you have to stay back." We both nodded in response.

Claire and I hung back after Peter as the all too short trip commenced. No one spoke the whole way there, but there wasn't much of a trip to speak of. Soon enough I pointed to the house, recognizing the address and the mailbox that read 'Mallory'.

Peter knocked on the door, and we heard faint shouting. "I'm not gonna let you out this house looking like a slut!"

"I always wear these clothes! And it's our first date!"

"Well I'm putting an end to it! Now get to your room!"

The door opened to reveal a tired looking blonde woman with a small five year-old boy attached to her. He cowered behind her when he saw Peter, and I heard a faint door slam. "Just like her father…" the woman muttered. She looked like an older, kinder Lauren.

"Anything I can do for you?" she asked impatiently, though not impolitely.

"Yes, ma'am," Claire pushed past Peter to speak. "We'd like to see Jason Mallory, please."

The woman looked at us apprehensively. She walked out, her posture stiff, and the boy followed. "David, get in the house," she said quietly, and immediately my hair stood on end. This was not a good reaction.

She shut the door behind her as the boy ran into what was obviously a living room. She crossed her arms and looked at Peter, not even noticing my presence. Which was probably a good thing, because surely she would recognize me. I stuck behind him, out of her eyesight. "What's happened?"

"He's escaped prison, Mrs. Mallory, no matter what he told you, and we—"

She cut him off, a fierce look on her face. "That fucker hasn't been around since sixteen years ago when he disappeared, and I've got a restraining order out on him. Good thing he's in prison. But he's not anywhere near here. Now I want you to leave," she said in an angry, clipped tone.

Peter spoke in a kind, soothing tone, "Before we go, did he have any places he hung around?"

She pointed to the left. "This stupid pub called Pablo's Palace in Seattle."

Peter nodded again, "Thank you," though I could hear slight exasperation and disappointment in his voice. We turned and left, but suddenly I stopped and cringed as her voice reached me again.

"Bella Swan? What are you doing here with them?" I turned and looked at her. I bit my lip, my mind scrambling for a lie.

"I…my dad had me help them look for the criminal, because I know where Lauren lives…I'm sorry." Her narrowed eyes relaxed and she smiled.

"No problem hun, helping out the public. Damn I wish Lauren was more like you." With that she turned and went inside, and I let out the breath I had been holding.

"That was close," I whispered. I went over to Peter and Claire who were waiting with relieved expressions.

"Nice one, Bella," Claire sighed happily.

I threw her a faint smile, "I guess I can lie when it's really needed, huh?"

"Yep," she responded, before it was like she receded away into her own thoughts. The walk back to their place was an oddly uncomfortable one. Maybe it was the fact that Peter didn't look or speak to me once or Claire didn't seem in such a good mood.

Either way, I had a feeling something bad was coming.

III

Claire really didn't know what to think, at that point. She walked silently alongside Peter and examined his stony face out of the corner of her eye—it looked carefully emotion-less. He simply focused on getting back to the house.

She didn't even look at Bella. She just felt strange…not angry, no. Betrayed? Closer, but not quite, because she couldn't be sure of what she'd seen. Hell, she couldn't be sure of anything, if she was being completely honest.

It was just that position—he was holding her, his neck bent, and she was stretching, and there was a sort of fire between them that Claire had never seen before. And how had she not seen it, was the question? When had it happened? Or was she just imagining things—Bella had said they just landed, so maybe they were just in that awkward position when she decided to go check it out. It was plausible.

Besides, Bella wouldn't do that, would she? Go behind her back and…get involved with her uncle. And neither would Peter—he specifically said he wouldn't date her friend! Of course, they had been talking about Elle…and Elle and Bella were nothing alike, she had to admit. While Elle seemed to be the exact opposite of what Peter would most likely look for in a girl, Bella was just the exact opposite of Elle.

Which made the two of them together make sense. But still, Bella wasn't the girliest girl on the planet, no, but she knew some simple things as far as 'girl-code' went. Like, family and exes are off-limits. She did know that, right? It was, like, common sense.

And then Peter…well, she didn't really know what to say about Peter. If she was honest, she didn't really know Peter too much. He was her uncle and she loved him as such—she even had a small thing resembling a crush on him in the beginning—but his personality was still a bit of a mystery to her.

Well, it seemed to be decided, at least in her mind. Claire was more of a passive-aggressive type person, at least she thought so. She wouldn't react without reason and this definitely gave her reason. Of course she wasn't about to punch Bella in the face or anything, but she wasn't going to sit back and not take any initiative in the things and people around her. So she'd find out more about Peter…

…and in the process, find out more about how Peter and Bella felt for each other. Because the more she ran over the picture of them in her own back yard together, the harder it was to deny that something had to be going on. Even if it was a friendly hug, her old gossipy instincts were tingling and she wanted to find out what was up.

Did that make her sound so totally bitchy? She hoped not—she wanted to be the involved, caring family member, like Peter and Bella both seemed to be. In fact…she ran over the facts. So far, she knew both Peter and Bella were stubborn. They were part mule, totally serious. And they were also the kind, give-you-the-shirt-off-their-backs type of people; no joke. They both also would rather hang around with friends and family rather than go out for a night on the town. And Bella was more Peter's age in the head…Claire had even said those words herself once.

How had she not known from the beginning? Wasn't it like, a cheerleader's duty to know all there was to know about relationships? Of course, she didn't really call herself a cheerleader still, but considering these were the two people she saw practically every day…

When they arrived at the house, she looked at Peter warily, who obviously seemed into his own thoughts rather than hers thank goodness. She smiled back at Bella, who looked less nervous at the gesture. Had the girl been able to tell she felt off after catching them in the yard?

"Let's practice your power, how about?"

Bella's brow furrowed. "I thought we were going after Jason."

Claire rolled her eyes. "We can't do squat because it's a bar. And not to mention it's way too early right now anyway. So why not get you better at using your power before we go down there—just in case you're needed, like, if he tries to run or something."

Bella nodded in response and looked questioningly up at Peter—who either didn't notice or pretended not to, Claire couldn't tell. But she did get the feeling it was the latter…why would be the question to ask. "That alright?"

He merely nodded, opening the door to the house and allowing them inside. Claire plopped on the couch with Bella. "Put your shield on me. I have an idea."

Bella nodded and her brow dimpled as it usually did, her mouth stretching into a frown of concentration. Claire got up to go to the kitchen and pulled out a knife when she got there, walking back. She saw Bella's fists were clenched when she returned. Had they been that way before? "What's wrong Bella?"

She gritted her teeth and barely choked it out. "It's harder when you're far."

Claire merely nodded, though Bella didn't see with her eyes closed. "Do you still have it on me?" Bella nodded in response.

Claire took the knife and drew it lightly across her skin, and being that it was new; it was sharp enough to only sting rather than seriously hurt. A red line followed the blade, blood dripping from the wound and onto the floor. Claire watched in fascination as it did nothing.

That's right. It did nothing at all. While by now there would have been no cut to speak of, it was there, red and pulsing with only more blood. So it was confirmed—Bella not only shielded minds from other powers, she kept those minds from using the powers of their own. That was awesome.

Claire smiled at Bella. "Look!"

Said girl opened her eyes and her face immediately paled and turned a strange shade of green. "I thought I smelled something…" And the cut began to heal again. Claire was amazed, and so was Peter, who had seemingly materialized onto the armchair near them.

Claire smiled and thought, Wow, isn't that awesome? She hoped Peter picked it up, and he must have because he nodded.

She looked over to Bella, who was now sitting, looking over at Peter. Her eyes snapped away from him with haste and landed on Claire's who merely raised an eyebrow. Bella's signature blush rose to her cheeks but she said nothing. Claire sighed.

"C'mon Bella. Let's go practice your power." The girl merely nodded, following after Claire toward her room. Though the look on her face was nearly priceless as Claire turned and shut the door, something she never did except for when they were going to sleep. And then it faded to something even better as Claire locked the door, something she simply never did. Claire nearly snickered.

Instead, she bounded over to the bed and jumped onto it, landing in the middle. She scooted back to rest against the headboard and patted Bella's favorite spot against the footboard. She took it hesitantly.

Claire smiled, but it was more forced than natural as the picture of Bella and her uncle came to mind—but she pushed it away. Surely Bella could explain things. "So, Bella. Let's talk."

"About what?" Bella had fallen back into the same old groove of things, which made smiling a lot easier.

"Boys," Claire said enthusiastically. "Anyone catch your eye?"

Bella looked startled. "What? Me? No. Nope, no one, none at all."

Claire laughed at the pathetic attempt, leaning back against the headboard fully. "Apparently you can't lie all the time. Spill."

"I…I…" Bella sat there and spluttered random unintelligible things, her cheeks and neck and arms all flaming red.

Claire suddenly sobered up and leaned forward, wanting to make sure her friend knew it was all right to tell her what she needed to. As long as it was out in the open, Claire would feel infinitely better—and she would never judge Bella for her feelings, no matter how weird of a situation it put herself in. "You know you can tell me, Bella."

Bella sighed and ran her hand through her hair, biting her lip. "It seems like you already know."

"I want it confirmed."

"I…I might have a small crush on…on Peter." And Bella, for her part, felt immensely relieved that it was out in the open with someone—like the load was a shared one.

Claire smiled. "I thought so." The smile fell. "So what are you gonna do about it?"

Bella didn't respond, but the silence—not to mention the despondent, nearly wounded grimace on her face as she stared down Claire's fluffy comforter—answered Claire's question. "You can't just do nothing when you love someone, Bella!"

Bella shook her head almost violently. "I don't! I mean, it's just a stupid crush, not…no, I'll get over it, Claire."

Claire sighed. "If you say so." And then they seemed to silently decide the matter was closed for the time being, slipping into actually practicing Bella's power with the knife Claire had brought along with her.

When Peter came to knock on the door, the alarm clock read nine. "I'm going to leave, are you coming?"

Bella looked confident as Claire responded with a "Yeah," nodding happily to Bella. "Are you excited?"

"Slightly," the other girl responded. "It's really easy to get it around your mind now, even from across the room."

They shuffled out into the hall where Peter was waiting quietly. "Let's go." He allowed them to walk ahead of him, turning to follow. Claire felt strange, being between her best friend and her uncle…and she had a feeling that she wasn't just between them when it came to the order in which they walked down the hall. No, she knew that she was probably a factor in Bella's mind when she decided not to pursue what Claire was sure was more than a crush.

Maybe it wasn't full-blown mushy love. She'd give Bella that. But at the same time, if she knew anything about Bella, it was that she did nothing half-way. If she felt about something or someone, she threw herself into it with fervor unlike Claire had ever seen before. Determined—maybe stubborn was more accurate—was Bella Swan's middle name. And while she knew Bella cared about them both and loved her like a sister; it was different, the way she saw her looking at Peter. Though that look was only seen twice, it still existed.

Claire sighed, shutting her car door and buckling her seatbelt. She decided she just didn't know what to think and would have to get the facts from both sides before she really had any for-sure clue on how either of them felt. Which meant a lot of careful word-choice when talking to the both of them.

She smiled; she could tap-dance around words like nothing. She couldn't wait.

III

"So what have you gotten from the girl so far?" Bob didn't look up from the papers he was shuffling around on his desk as he spoke to his daughter in a bored tone, as if she meant nothing. And when it came to him that was an abnormally accurate assumption.

Elle hesitated and looked at her father, adjusting nervously in the squeaky leather seat. Should she tell him what she'd seen? Though he'd grilled her before about bringing him unconfirmed information and passing it off as fact. Not to mention Elle had a slight weakness for dramatics, and a sudden scene in which she could bust the full story appealed to her—even just to see the dumbfounded look sure to be on her father's face when she did so.

"Not much yet, no. We're friends, but there really hasn't been a chance to…"

He cut her off angrily, something she found she was just used to. She couldn't do anything right in his eyes. "Then you make a chance! Dammit all, Elle, what's taking you so long? We need this information as quickly as possible! You know I had better things to do than allow you to spend your sweet time in high school?"

She grumbled and sat back in the chair, curling her knees more toward her torso in defense. "It's only been a few days," she said sullenly.

"That's a lot of wasted time," he said. "Get on it, Elle. No fooling around."

Elle stared at him for a moment, silently absorbing the fact that he hadn't looked at her, not once during his outburst. But finally, she sighed and left, knowing that she wasn't about to get anywhere with her father. First she needed information.

Elle sighed again as she took a seat on the black couch in the uppermost room she had claimed as hers, though not verbally. The trees swayed with the wind as the sky rapidly darkened from nearly black to something even darker. Her mood followed.

It was just that she could never do anything right around here. She felt so underappreciated for her efforts as an agent—she did her best and went beyond. She was trying, but how do you just offhandedly mention burning a vampire with your lightning powers? And she needed to ease into this, get Bella to open up to her without much pushing. It was something Elle wasn't really able to figure out.

Not to say she wasn't well-versed in the sacred art of manipulation. It had been going on since Adam and Eve walked the Earth. But her talents were only limited to men, not women. She never really had a need to manipulate women.

That was when, for a fleeting, almost desperate moment, a strange idea popped into Elle's head. She had seen how close Bella and Claire were—it was like they were attached at the hip or something. Could they…?

And if so, could Elle get in there and manipulate Bella that way? It seemed almost degrading to herself, to compromise her sexuality that way, but at the same time she wanted a good reputation and surely this'd be the thing to bring it.

But what if Bella and Claire were just that close and still friends? It could happen. And what about the way she saw Peter touching her, and the way he would glance at her when he carried her out of the hospital? Maybe it was just familial worry—after all, it wasn't like she of all people had much experience with that emotion—but still it didn't seem like it.

Damn, she was a retard for even considering it. Flirt with Bella? No, ew, and no once again.