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A/N: This story is rated M for "Moms agree, In The Blood is only for peoples over 18."

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Chapter 5: I'll Take My Chances

Watching Emmett's chest slowly rise and fall with his breath was soothing, but it didn't stop the intense thirst. Since arriving four days ago, Emmett had not left Bella's side or, for the most part, her bed. In that time, she hadn't hunted, and she needed to hunt. The throbbing veins in his neck were looking more and more inviting, and she wasn't ready for that yet.

When he wasn't moaning her name or commanding her to touch him, he was asking questions. She'd used all her favorite lies and explanations. Her skin was cool because of a circulation problem. She didn't eat in front of him for the same reason she didn't sleep: anxiety. The faint scars on her arms and back were from a car crash when she was young. He didn't seem completely satisfied with her answers, but he never pushed her. It was as if he knew she was lying and didn't care. The intense conversations usually ended with him fucking her senseless on the floor or the couch or the dining room table.

Other times, he was tender and loving, worshiping and supplicating. Emmett was strong, kind, and insatiable; everything Bella was looking for in a mate. The spark between them grew as it changed. She knew it would never be what she'd had with the beautiful boy, but it would be something. Something important. And, after all, that was all she could ask for, because someone like the beautiful boy wouldn't come around twice in a lifetime.

The day she first saw the beautiful boy, bent down to tie his shoe, she'd had every intention of dragging him to the nearest alley and draining him. She'd smelled his blood two blocks away, and only his attention to his untied laces prevented him seeing her approach at inhuman speed. When he looked up at her, his eyes a sparkling deep emerald and his mouth in a crooked smile, everything changed. She wanted him in a way wholly foreign to her; she wanted him for eternity. To disguise her shock, she had flirted with him in a manner called shameless in 1918. He responded by taking her hand, and the intense waves of electricity that passed through her body made her wonder if her shield had failed.

He looked so crestfallen when he thought he wouldn't see her again. However, she never truly left him when they parted on the street. She followed him for days, watching him with his family and friends, learning everything she could about him. She climbed into his second story window and watched him sleep. The chances she took to be near him would have made Aro cringe, but she couldn't stay away. Finally, she summoned the courage to approach him.

Each morning, the beautiful boy walked from the house he shared with his parents to a park five blocks away. There, he sat under a tall oak tree, writing in a small leather-bound journal. His jacket thrown to the side, his crisp white shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. She was standing over him and casting a shadow over his page before he realized she was there. Seeing his sparkling eyes staring up at her, she forgot to speak.

"Fair maiden," he whispered in wonder.

She smiled and held out her hand. "My champion."

He quickly spread his jacket next to him and took her hand, much more tightly than before, pulling her down gently beside him. The electricity flowed through her body again at his touch. Hoping to sit with him under the tree, she'd worn a light day dress, a simple cotton shift with a high-waisted sheer overlay, all in shades of blue. His eyes moving up and down her body, he seemed to approve.

Their hands entwined, he stared at her intently. "I was beginning to think I'd dreamed you."

"O ye of little faith," she said laughing. "I told you we'd meet again. Although, I'm not sure meeting me constitutes a dream."

He scooted closer, and she could feel the heat radiating off his body. "If you're not a dream, then you're the best kind of nightmare."

Oh, little boy, if you only knew.

Wilting under his intense gaze, she examined his open journal, running her free hand slowly over the bumps and indentations. The page was a jumble of thoughts; words, drawings, even musical passages were written in precise, neat script on every inch of space. "What are you so diligently writing in this book?"

His hand released hers, and she frowned at the loss until she felt his arm wrap around her waist, pulling her closer. Having left her colonial sensibilities far behind, she was still aware that this was very forward for the young man who barely knew her. She didn't care. She breathed deeply, filling her lungs with the delicious scents of his skin and his blood.

"It's mostly just scribble," he whispered, "but lately I've written a lot about you."

He thumbed through the pages, and she read passages describing their first encounter in minute detail, questioning where she could be, and lamenting never seeing her again. She gasped and grabbed his wrist to stop the page turning. There, in black and white and shades of gray, was a photograph-perfect sketch of her face, reflecting all the awe and conflict she'd felt that day.

"It's beautiful," she said, sighing. "I can't believe you remembered so much about me." She'd meant to entice him with the voice that day and lead him to his death. The bright spark of his emerald eyes had saved him, and the voice was forgotten. She was amazed that he'd been affected so strongly without it.

"I remember everything about that day." His voice was husky, and he leaned his body against hers. "I've been waiting for you ever since."

Stunned, she looked into his eyes, which had darkened and dilated. "If you continue to touch me like this, people will think we're lovers."

"I know I'm being forward, and it's not like me at all. But I couldn't possibly care less what anyone other than you thinks right now."

She continued to remind herself that they were in a public park causing quite a scandal and that he'd ultimately want to woo her slowly, gently, chastely. She knew that she would let him take whatever time he needed to accept her completely. There was only one thing she wanted, one thing she needed before she was sure.

Cupping his cheek with her hand, she inched toward him. He began to speak, but she shook her head to quiet him. His eyes were wide with anticipation, his arm clenched around her waist, and she could hear his heart thumping wildly in his chest. Finally, the distance was closed, and she gently touched his lips with hers.

His lips were warm and soft, molding perfectly to fit her. Nothing else existed except his mouth moving against hers, his arm pulling her closer, and his body responding to her touch. Electrified, they kissed passionately. His lips parted, and she felt his tongue searching for hers. Tilting her head and opening her mouth, she allowed him a brief taste before pushing him away.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry," he said, his voice filled with worry. "I...I don't know..."

Smiling, she stroked his cheek. "You have no need to apologize. I think we both let things get a little out of hand."

"I'm not sure what's gotten into me, but it won't happen again, I promise. Will you let me make it up to you?" His eyes were still dark, his voice still worried.

"Yes," she said softly. "I'm not going anywhere."

He sighed; seeming relieved, and took her hand resting on his cheek, holding it tightly. "Now that we're a little better acquainted, will you tell me your name?"

"Isabella."

"Isabella," he whispered reverently. "A beautiful name. My name is Edward."

Edward.

"Who is Edward?"

Bella looked down at Emmett's sleepy face, snuggled against her hip as she sat against the bed's headboard. His eyes were barely open. "No one, baby," she whispered, stroking his head.

"You promised," he mumbled, draping a limp arm over her legs.

"Yes, baby, I know. Go back to sleep." She smiled as he sighed and returned to quietly snoring.

The second day they were together, as Emmett made love to her, he asked her to promise he would be the only man in her life. He was so sincere and vulnerable, and she wanted to give him anything in that moment. Knowing it would severely curtail her hunting possibilities, she promised anyway. She done the same when she was with Edward, and she felt she owed Emmett the same loyalty.

Her thirst flared again, and she slowly removed Emmett's arm and stood. She dressed in Emmett's huge white button-down, belting it like a dress, and a pair of jeans. Slipping into her favorite Mary Janes, she tiptoed out the loft door.

She wanted to be home before Emmett woke, so she decided to hunt closer to Chicago. Since she'd sworn off men for now, a neighborhood bar would not be the best hunting ground. Driving through a trendier area, she saw a tapas bar overflowing with people. She parked the car and walked to the front of the line; using the voice meant she never had to wait.

Looking around, she finally found it: a table full of women on a boozy night out. She listened to their shrill conversations, latching onto the name of the loudest woman. The woman, Lauren, looked up as Bella approached the table.

"Lauren!" Bella exclaimed. "Imagine seeing you here! I haven't seen you since undergrad at Loyola. How are you?"

Lauren, a bit tipsy and very confused, spoke, her words slightly slurred. "Um, yeah, I'm good. You?"

"Oh, I'm great now that I've run into you!" Bella cried, hugging Lauren tightly.

When she felt Lauren's arms wrap around her, Bella knew she wouldn't be thirsty much longer. Alcohol made it so much easier to convince someone to do what she wanted. The effects of the voice were amplified tenfold. She didn't want pickled prey, however, and she managed to cut Lauren off without much notice. A few hours later, Lauren was mostly sober, and she and Bella talked as if they were really long lost friends. Once Lauren's friends were too drunk to listen, Bella began her takedown.

"So, Lauren, I've always thought you were a very beautiful woman," Bella whispered, moving her chair to touch Lauren's.

Lauren blushed brightly. "Really? I'm surprised someone like you would even notice me."

Bella leaned over closer. "You were the first person I noticed tonight." Encouraged by Lauren's continued blushing and escalating heart rate, Bella continued. "I bet you taste incredible."

Lauren gasped and swallowed hard. "Oh, shit. Um, I need to go to the bathroom."

Lauren jumped out of her seat, walking quickly toward the restroom. Bella had primarily fed on men the last several decades, and she feared her lack of recent experience with women had caused her to overstep and push too hard. She smiled wickedly as she saw Lauren turn and motion her to follow.

The bathroom was strangely and mercifully empty when they entered. Three stalls lined the far wall, and Lauren led the way into the handicapped stall at the end furthest from the door. Once they were inside, Bella locked the door and pressed Lauren against the wall.

"I've never done anything like this before," Lauren eeked. "I'm not sure I know what to do."

Bella brushed Lauren's silvery blonde hair away from her neck and kissed softly over her jugular. "Don't worry. I'll take care of you."

The soft curves of a woman were something Bella had forgotten, and she slowly reacquainted herself with the tactile pleasure as she ran her hands slowly over Lauren's body. There were so many things she could do, so many things she could show this silly girl, but her thirst would not allow it. She promised herself to take her time with the next woman and leaned in to kiss Lauren's soft, shiny lips. Lauren's eyes widened then glazed, and she parted her lips, making tentative swipes at Bella's mouth with her tongue. Bella grabbed Lauren's long hair, tilting her head roughly to deepen the kiss.

Bella pulled away and, closing the lid on the toilet, sat down. "Take off your pantyhose," she commanded.

Lauren, her face flushed, lifted her pencil skirt and peeled off her shoes and black hose, revealing a pair of white lace panties. When Lauren began to pull her skirt down, Bella stopped her.

"Don't. You'll just have to lift it back up if you do." She motioned Lauren toward her, and, when Lauren complied, she pulled Lauren forward to straddle her.

"I thought you...you wanted to taste me?" Lauren asked, confused.

"Oh, I will."

Knowing she would not find anything there that would change the outcome, Bella still looked deep into Lauren's eyes as she eased her hand under the white lace panties, slipping her fingers deep inside the wetness she found there. Beginning slowly, she stroked the swollen, sensitive flesh with each thrust of her fingers. Lauren's head dropped forward, resting on Bella's shoulder, as she moaned and panted. Bella continued to work her fingers in a steady rhythm, increasing the speed to match the bucking of Lauren's hips. Bella could feel the end approaching just as sure as she could see Lauren's pulse in the veins of her neck. Suddenly, Lauren dug her fingers into Bella's shoulders and arched her back, screaming as she came in throbbing, crashing waves.

Bella slowly pulled Lauren toward her and traced Lauren's prominent collarbone with the tip of her tongue. Clutching Lauren's long hair with her wet fingers, Bella raised her mouth to the pulsing veins and bit down hard.

Before Bella could restrain her, Lauren jerked free, causing her blood, pumped by the beat of her dying heart, to spray over them. Grabbing Lauren's face roughly between her hands, Bella stared into her frightened eyes.

"Stop," Bella growled. "You're just making it worse on yourself."

Tears streaming down her face, Lauren stopped struggling. Bella sunk her teeth in again, gorging herself on the flowing blood until Lauren's strangled sobs ceased.

~*~

Turning her key in the loft door, Bella pushed the door open slowly, hoping to enter and strip off her blood-stained clothes before Emmett woke. She was surprised to find Emmett awake and sitting in a dining chair placed directly in front of the door.

"Where have you...oh my God, Bella, what happened to you?" Emmett rushed toward her.

"It's nothing," Bella said, shaking him off. "I had a nosebleed."

Emmett raised an eyebrow at her. "Looks like a pretty bad nosebleed. How often do you have those?"

"Every two or three days. Really, it's not a big deal." Bella walked quickly toward the bedroom.

She was stopped at the bathroom door when Emmett grabbed her hand. Spinning around, she paused, faced with Emmett's concerned and compassionate eyes. "Bella," he whispered, "let me take care of you."

Bella lowered her head in surrender, and Emmett began to slowly undress her. His large hands deftly removed her belt and unbuttoned the bloody shirt. The blood had soaked through the shirt and stained her bra, and, after removing it, Emmett threw it and the shirt in a pile on the floor. Kneeling, he removed her shoes, jeans, and panties, throwing them in a separate pile next to the chiffarobe. He stood, sweeping Bella up into his arms. He cradled her against his chest as he turned on the hot water of the shower then carried her inside.

Racked with silent, tearless sobs, Bella watched as red swirls washed down the drain. She felt Emmett's strong fingers massage her scalp as he washed her hair. He gently lathered her body, washing the blood, dirt, and regret away with his tender touch until the water ran clear.

Emmett lifted Bella, soaking wet and limp, and carried her to the bed. He lay down next to her, taking her in his arms and kissing her on the forehead. She still wouldn't look at him, so he lifted her chin to tilt her head.

"Bella, you don't have to tell me where you were or what happened," he said, gently kissing her lips. "Just let me love you."

"You barely know me, Emmett. You have no idea what I'm capable of." Her voice was cold and hard.

If you know what's good for you, little boy, you'll run away as fast as you can.

He grabbed her face and forced her to look him in the eye. "I don't care, and I won't be scared off."

He kissed her again, and she reeled at the new intensity. It caused her body to betray her better sense, and she submitted to his mouth and his hands. Moaning his name, she felt her skin ignite under his fingers, and he touched or tasted every inch. Every time she tried to touch him, he'd push her hands away, pinning them over her head or to her sides until she ceded control again. Finally, he pushed her legs apart and sunk himself deep inside her.

Surrounded by her, he paused, pressing his face into the crook of her neck. "I love you, Bella," he whispered against her skin.

None of it made sense, she knew. They'd only been together a few days, but she could not deny the fierce connection they shared. It was not the love she'd had for the beautiful boy, but it was love of a sort. Until she met Emmett, she never knew she was missing him, and now she wasn't sure she could let him go. Her reminiscences of Edward and her flawed kill had reminded her of her failures, but in this she could succeed. She could make him happy. She could give him what he seemed to so desperately want.

"I love you, too, Emmett."

They made love all night, and, when morning came, Bella again let the rise and fall of Emmett's chest soothe her as she held him.