Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns it all.

Rated M for several reasons.

Chpt 39 Divide an' Conquer

BPOV

This won't be the first time I've been back to Forks since I fled but it feels different. Last time we were running an' needed a temporary place to hide, this time we don't want to be seen either but for very different reasons. An' this time we won't be leaving within 24 hours, we won't be leaving until we get what we came for. I am uncomfortably aware that on this visit I might actually have to face up to my past an' talk to someone who knows me, knows my history. Not something I could have done last time but Bella Whitlock is a very different person, a grown up. I have nothing to be ashamed of and, apart from being a little bit dead, nothing to hide.

The ones who truly make me nervous though are the wolves. I don't want to drag my family into a fight with them over something I did years ago, it wouldn't be fair to either side an' so I'm keen to avoid them at all costs.

Jasper's made me hunt twice on the way. I usually don't go for bear but I was grateful to find one, hunting it helped me work off some of my excess aggression an' the taste wasn't half bad either. A few hours later we stopped for a couple of dessert deer an' now I'm full and sloshy, almost lethargic, which I'm sure was his plan all along. Right now he's doing enough fretting for both of us, as soon as he realised we'd left our cells his instinct was to head back immediately, it was only because he understood how desperate I was to be doing something that he agreed to press on an' get new cells in Port Angeles. We'll get a motel room there too, to act as a base for us.

When I'm not obsessing about a return to Forks I can't help wondering about Carlisle. I can understand why he's pissed, not the extent of it if I'm honest, but he did love Edward as a son. But how could the man I knew use an innocent girl against us? It runs contrary to everything I thought he stood for. Casting him as the traitor is odd enough but it's a stretch to imagine him putting Chelsea up to what she tried to do to Jasper an' I and that was more spiteful than anything else. He was definitely throwing Alice at us, which seems extremely unfair to her considering none of us made any secret of our feelings on the matter. I've had it with the damn Cullens, they bring nothing but trouble into my life. When this is over we should banish them to Antarctica, I bet that bitch Rosalie would love a bit of penguin.

The closer we get to Seattle the darker Jasper's eyes become an' the less animated he is. He hasn't gone fully into Major mode, more a sort of general purpose Major Lite, poised to go either way in the blink of an eye. I on the other hand am still on a very short fuse, feeding has lightened my eyes some but not my mood.

As the sky begins to darken again we arrive in the outskirts of Seattle, picking up the hire car Simon ordered for us to complete the drive to Port Angeles. The time this has all taken has chaffed against my raw nerves but I accept Pete's point that without knowing who's involved in this disaster it's better to stay off the radar.

Jasper checks us into the motel on First Street as I scan the area. The human memory gun is firing all sorts of random information at me. Dress shopping, drunks, motorcycles, movies, sightseeing. Italian food. Edward. Happiness, sadness, delicious mushrooms, cold coke, crazy driving.

I hurtle back to reality when Jasper snaps his fingers in front of my face, an amused expression tugging at his lips.

"Only the best for you darlin'." He chuckles, gesturing at the Super 8.

"Cheapskate." I mutter, allowing him to tuck me into his side as we go up to our room.

He leaves again immediately, instructing me to call Simon who's probably worrying like an old woman. Smiling at the thought, although in truth Pete will be ten times worse, I flop down on the bed an' lift the receiver.

Nothing.

Typical.

Oh well, he'll be back with the new cells in a minute, if not we can find a payphone, a few more minutes won't hurt. Shaking a clean t-shirt out of my bag I hop in the shower instead.

Emerging from the shower an' vigorously towelling off a familiar smell penetrates my brain. Eau de Wolf Boy.

An' it's right outside the door.

JPOV

Everythin' about this situation is fucked up.

Carlisle. Lisa. Esme. Bella. Us bein' here without backup an' without a plan. No cell for fuck's sake.

Keeping my anger contained is taking up nearly all my concentration, it's being triggered from all over the place. One, Dr Carlisle Cullen is a dead man, fuckin' traitor. Two, Dr Carlisle Cullen is a dead man, how could he do this to Bella? He of all people, knowing what Char's told him about how Bella is carin' for that girl, how cut up she is about what she did. The one an' only time she's ever done it. Three, Dr Carlisle Cullen is a dead man, splitting my coven up an' exposing them to who knows what danger. Four, for Chelsea Volturi it's gonna take him a very long time to die. Five, how the fuck could he do this to Esme? Esme, the sweetest woman in the world. Oh hell the list goes on but really, Bella's hurtin' an' that's all it takes.

God bless America. Buying a cell at this time of night is child's play. I stroll back through the town wrestling with the packagin' an' trying to get the little card into the damn phone. I mean really, if a fuckin' vampire can't do it what chance has an ordinary mortal got?

The foul stench of wet dog assaults my nostrils.

I stop, head whipping up.

Quileutes.

Two of 'em outside the movie theatre.

Three across the street from me, leaning against the wall outside a coffee shop.

I turn slowly.

Four behind me, planted in the street like dime store statues.

To describe their emotions as hostile would be an understatement. The desire to kill me is so thick I can taste it in the salty air.

Tourists hurry past us oblivious to the supernatural tension suddenly in the air.

Carefully I stuff the cell phone into the back pocket of my jeans an' reach up to settle my hat over my eyes.

Eight against one in a crowded street is not happenin'. Neither am I leading them back to Bella. I need to lose them an' I need to lose them quickly.

Tagging along with a group of over excited tourists I turn, moving down the street towards the pier. I need water to give them the slip.

I can sense them following me. Hatred, regret an' triumph rolling off them in waves. Hatred I get, though the strength of it is surprisin'. Regret? Maybe because they can't attack me in such a public place? Triumph? I don't fuckin' like it, see the above.

Finally we reach the pier an' I glance around looking for another out. Nada.

Rage bubbling below the surface I allow them to herd me further before looking round for one last time, humans all occupied, an' dropping silently over the railings into the water.

I need to get back into town as quickly as possible, if they know I'm here then they might know about Bella, but at least she has her shields. An' a fuckin' telephone.

How, when we are now part of the most powerful coven in the world did we get embroiled in this clusterfuck?

BPOV

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

I drag my clothes on, mind spinning uselessly in neutral.

Is it a coincidence, I mean they have to have jobs, right? Maybe it's just some guy with ice or mints for the pillows?

Yeah, right Whitlock, this is a Super 8. They provide a bed, a bathroom, a TV an' a device for making contact with the man who brings pizza.

Frantically I struggle into my clothes, an' no, jeans don't go on a wet vampire body any easier than they do on a squishy one.

Decent I throw a physical shield up around myself an' open the door.

"You look good, for an animated corpse, Bells."