The good thing about living in a relatively large town in that no one really cares about how you dress and everybody doesn't know everybody. Therefore, I could wear just about whatever I wanted and not get caught for killing the dress code. Which is the exact reason I was not in dress code. I didn't look like a lolipop today thankfully. I was happily arrayed in my favorite brown t-shirt, dark blue jeans, and a pair of black converses.
I stood in front of the mirror. "Well. Don't you look terribly happy," I asked my reflection. Then smiled as I tugged on a toboggan.
I grabbed my history book and an orange as I ran out the door. I didn't have a mother to fix me breakfast or a father to fix coffee for. It was just me and my apartment. After awhile, I had gotten used to it.
I was there early, as always. Only about fifteen minutes early but still. It was quiet in the library, so I cracked open my book and began to review for a chemistry pop quiz. I had the history down after last night. As for how I knew there would be a quiz, after awhile, you begin to notice how teachers drop hints.
In the middle of figuring out the formula for a long equation that had no point whatsoever, I saw someone sit down beside me. I didn't pay much attention to them, since just about everyone in the school feared me. When I had first gotten here, guys had thought it would be fun to tease me, and girls thought they were flirting. I had no qualms about hitting anyone, girl or guy. So after kicking a few of the resident bad boys' butts and showing the girls I wasn't about to scratch and pull hair, I was generally typed as a delinquent and left alone.
"Hey," said the new resident body.
I ignored him in hopes that he would just go away.
"Hey." He seemed a bit more impatient.
"Alright, Dean," I said irritably. "I'm not going to help you sell drugs, and no, I don't want any."
"Wow," he said. "I'm glad you don't do drugs."
I jerked my head up, because that was definitely not our resident druggie's voice. "Holy crap, Mark!" He grinned like a complete idiot. "Where did you come from?!"
"A guy's got to go to school somewhere," he replied.
"A girl's got to study to pass," I replied.
"Need help," he asked. For a second, I thought his tone sounded almost hopeful.
"No," I deadpanned.
He frowned. "It might help you."
"I'm fine," I said as I picked up my books and began to leave. Mark was pretty much amazing, but I wouldn't be swayed. I hurried outside.
As expected, school was mostly a blur. In chemistry, I think I missed a couple. I blame Mark for it. Most of the teachers gave the usual Friday routine: Have a good weekend! I planned on having a great weekend free from all traces of annoying people. It would just be me and my radio as I cleaned my apartment.
The history test finished off without a hitch. It was exactly as I had thought it would be. I was completely satisfied with the results, and nothing could ruin my mood. Unfortunately, Nothing was stalking me.
"Hey," said Mark as soon as I stepped outside.
"You've already used that line twice," I replied with an attitude that bordered on happy. "It didn't work either time."
He shrugged. "Third time's the charm."
I rolled my eyes. "Don't bet on it."
"Oh, well, perhaps the fourth time it will be."
"You're smothering me," I said and began to dash off to my bus. He threw an arm in front of me.
"What happened," he asked glancing toward my cast.
"I punched a rock," I explained as I tried to push past him, but he hadn't just grown in two years. It seemed he had put on some muscle too. I was pretty strong, I suppose, but I couldn't get past him.
His eyes twinkled. "You always were a time bomb."
"I don't believe you're acquainted with me as well as you think."
"I think I am."
He leaned closer into me. So close that I could feel his breath. To say the least, I was uncomfortable. Human contact was not on the top of my everyday occurence list. I meant to hit him with my cast, but I wasn't too used to the extra weight on my wrist. I ended up whacking his chest and depositing my books on his foot.
"Ow?"
I looked from his face to his feet incredulously. I had no idea how in the world that couldn't have had some sort of effect on him. I heard the swish sound as the buses started to pull out and was jump started back to my present predicament.
"Hey," I yelled as I made a mad dash to the bus and began banging on the side and shouting all known synonyms for "Stop or I'll kill you".
In the end, I was stranded. No bus, but I did have Mark sitting in his nice little pick up truck across the parking lot. Being a gentleman or some such thing normal people appreciate, he had offered me a ride. I refused. Mark seemed rather nice, I guess, but he didn't seem totally trustworthy, and I'd only talked to the guy for about fifteen minutes since he'd blasted back from my past. That dilemma left me being a rock outside of school.
Mark looked up from his book for about the fiftieth time and waved. He was a cocky little fool. I shook my head and opened my book. It was a simple matter of waiting him out. Pointless, I suppose, but I'm just stubborn like that.
The day wore on. I grew bored. Eventually, I had done everything from climbing trees to counting the grass. But as I did all this, Mark only sat there. It was about dusk when God decided my day should be further ruined. Or maybe got better? It was all because a certain brute pulled up in the most beautiful blue Thunderbird I had ever seen.
"Hey," he grinned. "Need a lift?"
"Where did you get this," I breathed.
Emmett shrugged with that usually infuriating smile that only Emmett can produce, but today I was beyond caring.
"It's been in our garage for awhile."
"I bet."
"Wanna ride?"
It wasn't really a contest. Sweet Thunderbird or Mark's glaring while I was stranded? "Yes."
I was in awe as I slid into the refurbished leather seats. They were sooo soft and wonderful taht they totally made up for watching birds fly for the last few hours. A thought occurred to me.
"Why are you even here? Not that I'm complaining!"
"Well, that's a step up. I'm appreciated a bit."
"It's mostly the car." I was still stroking thne leather in partial rapture.
He made an odd huffing sound and muttered something along the lines of under-appreciated elders. It wasn't like I insulted his grandmother or something. He still didn't answer my question though. I tore my eyes and attention away from the car from heaven.
"What are you doing here?"
"Alright. Well, you know how Carlisle gave you his number?" I nodded and brushed my hair out of my face. "Last night at about 11:00 o'clock, he started getting prank calls. You know, call and hang up? He figured his fan base had stolen it from you, so I was sent to check on you, do your housework, and be a slave in general."
I don't know about you, but I was beginning to like Carlisle greatly. "What about the car?"
"Jasper suggested I take one of the older ones. The one has always been my favorite." He pressed a sheet of paper into my hand. "Carlisle had to change his number again."
The front had Carlisle's same familiar scrawl on it, but on the back, there was a thick unfamiliar handwriting. "He has two numbers?"
"The one on the back is mine. I figure if you get hurt there's Carlisle, and if you want something really stupid and superficial, I'll be there."
My eyes narrowed with all traces of curiosity gone. "Next time I want breakfast in bed, I'll call you."
"And I'll be sure to bring it."
"If you make it wrong, I'll send it back."
"I'll be sure to get it right the first time," he said smugly.
I shrugged and went back to enjoying the scenery. He was being so agreeable that it was just down right strange. No normal person was content to be called a slave. I noticed the concrete jungle becoming greener.
"Hey, Slave! Where the hell are you taking me?!"
"Surprise," he grinned.
"Slaves are supposed to obey their masters!"
He shrugged. "I'm a willful slave. Beat me for it later if you really want to."
I eyed my cast. I wouldn't beat him with it right now. It would be terrible to break the poor guy's concentration. I was not suicidal and wasn't about to start being that way, therefore it would be all his fault if the precious Thunderbird nose dived off the cliff. Beatings could wait till I was on solid ground.
Eventually, he parked in front of a big white and very windowed house. I edged closer to him.
"Hey," I hissed. "Is this where the cult meets?"
"Cult?" He looked confused.
"Edward's cult." I sighed. "Look. I already know, so quit being so freaking secretive!"
He blinked a few times before bursting out laughing. I was not amused. I think I got in one good whack with my cast before he sobered up.
"You win," he sputtered. "We're a secret cult that practices black magic by sacrificing children, mountain lions, and grizzlies. It's tradition to cover ourselves in glitter, and black cloaks are in style at the secret circle right now. Oh! And we all drive blue Thunderbirds except on Thursday when it's Yellow Porsche Day."
I stared at him for awhile before crossing my arms and working up a good sulk. "Now I know you're lying."
He laughed again as he got out of the car. "Do you want Carlisle and his magic staff to come to you, or are you going to them?"
I stuck out my tongue and threw my leg over the side of the car door nad lept out. He was terribly good at teasing me. I would try my best to give him no reason to tease me in any way.
The big white house loomed like a very large and very nice present in front of me. It was a shame the most annoying people I had ever met occupied it. Emmett did NOT escort me inside. I made it a point to stomp my way in front of him, throw open the door, and scream my existence to the house's occupants. I was rewarded by the resident 'wizard's' prescence.
"Miss Adams? Is that you?"
Miss Adams? Carlisle was very nice, very pretty, and very polite, but I'd rather have his sons call me 'Miss Adams' than him. "It's just Jaz."
He smiled a little indulgently. "Of course! Well, we didn't get a proper look at your wrist. I would like you to permit me to x-ray it again. I would have just called you, but I didn't get your number, and you seem to be unlisted."
I liked my privacy which is probably why I disliked being shipped off from my school by a slave I'd barely met. My face must have conveyed these feelings very well.
"Of course, we won't do it if you don't want to." He frowned a little as if disappointed. "Emmett will take you home. Jasper gave him directions."
Oh great. Now I'll have to move. I rolled my eyes. "I don't mind." It was a lie, but he looked almost heartbroken at the thought of not being able to examine my broken body. Now that I think about it, that's kind of creepy.
Carlisle immediately brightened. "Well, follow me!"
He led me up large Victorian style steps to a very bland and dark room. There was a short desk at one end with a rolly chair. Other than that, there was only the single x-ray machine in the center of the room. It was pretty depressing, really.
Carlisle ushered me onto the table and removed my watch and belt. Apparently, metal was bad. The table was cold and hard. By the time the machine booted up, my teeth were chattering. It flashed and then I was being tugged off the table by an even colder pair of hands.
"Don't touch me," I snapped, and Emmett immediately let go with hsi face in a hurt puppy look. "You're cold! Are you trying to give me pneumonia?"
He rolled his eyes. "Let's go."
I was tugged in a very un-gentle manner to the big white living room where I was deposited onto a hard-as-a-rock couch.
"For rich people, you sure don't have good taste in furniture," I said while rubbing the new sore place on my butt.
"I'll tell Alice. She'll be delighted to drag us to every furniture store this side of the US."
I grimaced. "Don't mention it."
"Exactly."
Silence pressed down on us like the presence of Alice and the words redecorating soaked in a little too well. I hated it.
"Slave," I said after awhile. "Ice water. Now." He rolled his eyes and got up to head to the kitchen, I presume.
Once he stepped through the door, I sighed and relaxed considerably. The rock couch was still, sadly, untolerable. It occured to me that my original mission to uncover their cult-that-is-not-a-cult could totally use this Cullen-free time to do some very good snooping. Unfortunately, the beast showed up with an empty glass after I'd made my momentous decision.
"Empty?! What kind of slave can't fill up a glass of water?!"
He held up his hands. "Well, excuse me if someone forgot to pay the water bill!"
I poked him in the chest somewhat more gently than before. "This is gonna cost you," I said leaning up on my tip toes so as to get in his face and make my message clearer. "Fresh Mountain Spring Water. Cold and don't forget the ice."
He leaned down and grinned at the challenge. "As you wish, Mistress."
He walked out the door with that cocky swagger and started the car.
"Fifteen minutes," I yelled.
He gave me a wave and then was gone. I wasn't really concerned with where he went so much as how long it took him to find a genuine mountain spring (which would take way longer than fifteen minutes). I was set and ready to go. The only question was where to go first. Stairs or hall? I shrugged. The kitchen was obviously down the hall, and I figured what the hell? Let's start with the unknown!
The steps didn't creak or anything. I took that to be a good sign. As I passed the x-ray room, I noticed Carlisle bent over his paperwork. Luckily, he didn't look like he was even near moving anytime soon, and that gave me time to check out all the rooms down this hallway.
"Eeny meeny miney mo," I half sang as I ran my fingers over the doors stopping at the end of the hall.
I opened it. The room was the poster for Angsty-Goths-R-Us. It contained nearly nothing, and everything screamed black. Strange thing was that this was not a bedroom, because it lacked a bed. Instead, it had a long black couch facing a shelf holding a stereo and CDs. On the off chance that cultists have good taste in music, I began to leaf thru them. Guess what? They don't! It was all Mozart, Beethoven, and other cheesy composers that come with a new computer for free. I was starting to think they were more into yoga than black magic.
After a routine check under the couch and in the closet for skeletons, I was forced to conclude that these were the kind of people who forgot to pay water bills but not to put up their clothes.
Room Two, Three, and Four were no better - excluding that stack of 100s that I found under a pillow that smelled suspiciously like Jasper. Few family pictures were around. It was almost like they diliberately hid them or something. In fact, the whole house was entirely too clean and perfect. Almost like it wasn't even lived in!
As I was about to give up again and go throught the whole 'wait out remaining time on rock hard couch' routine, I found a fifth door. It was a study, a library, and the place where they had stashed all the family photos rolled into one. There was Jasper and Alice by the Porsche, Carlisle and another woman at Disneyland (albeit the only day you don't want to go to Disneyland), and one of Edward and Emmett goofing off with some blonde chick. The place had pictures from Italy, France, Egypt, and the Bahamas. They were old, wrinkley, black & white, sepia, new. You name it. There's a picture. Only thing is, there was no way that the ancient family portrait was real.
The Cullens looked picture perfect. There wasn't a wrinkle or tear in their clothes, and they hadn't aged a day. My eyes narrowed. I wasn't sure if black magic could give you immortality or not. That's more of a deal with the devil thing.
I reached out to touch the picture. It had to be photoshopped. The glass prevented me from touching it. I picked up the picture and noticed something behind it. A keypad.
"What the hell?!" I was shocked. This is mafia crap right here. I'd been thinking magic, but it was really the mob.
"Jaz! Got it under fifteen! Fresh natural spring water filled with- . . . Jaz?"
Crap! Know what the mafia does to spies? I don't either, so I started punching numbers like Satan was hot on my tail. As luck would have it, I hit on the right code. Thank, God!
A door slid open that I swear wasn't there before. I was stunned. I could barely hear Emmett's calls as I stood frozen in front of the freezer. It was grotesque. Bags of some red substance were on a shelf in front of me. I had the feeling it was blood. Maybe it was the fact a fat red drip like that could not be water or juice or whatever was frozen there. Or the fact that it was meticulously labeled in our resident doctor's careful scrawl. I had a feeling Carlisle's nurses wouldn't want to prank call him ever again if they saw this. I felt a whoosh, and Emmett was suddenly blocking my view of the two foot deep freezer.
"What are you doing," he growled.
My mouth did this wierd up and down motion as I tried to force words out. I didn't care what I said. Any words would do, but none came.
He shut/slammed the door and leaned closer to me while bearing his teeth. "What in hell are you doing?!"
I had to stall him. They were monsters, and I was in their grasp. I searched for a distraction. Anything! But there was nothing. That was when I did something that would haunt me for the rest of my life.
I kissed Emmett.