A/N: Thank you for the two lovely reviews, and I promise all will slowly be revealed! This chapter is held in the future and some more information becomes available for you all to dissect! Thank you for the views and favorites and alerts, I truly appreciate it. Please, let me know what you all think *kisses* enjoy!
Disclaimer: Please see chapter one.
It would've been cold, if I could feel it. The ground was slick with rain and the street lights flickered lazily in the dark. I press back against the brick wall and watch as a beat up SUV rolls slowly down the street and then come to an abrupt halt. I smile. They always stop. I hike up my skirt and adjust my bra, making a show of stumbling over to the car. Make them think they have the upper hand and they almost make it too fucking easy. I sway over to the passenger side and lean against the door, my breasts spilling over the top of my low cut shirt. I can feel him leering at me. Disgusting.
The man who rolls down the window looks to be in his forties, probably on his way home from some dead end job and judging by this decrepit alley he was driving through, he was looking for a good time. The ring on his left hand glints in the faint light and he catches my eye then, laughing nervously before reaching to slip it off. "Don't," I say, my voice overly husky. "I like it better when it's on."
His hands snap back to clutch at the wheel and I can feel the lust rolling off of him in palpable waves. His pupils dilate and his breathing hitches, a tent already growing in his pants and I almost start to feel bad for what I was about to do. Almost.
"How much?" he asks me, eying my ample cleavage. I pull open the car door and slide into the seat, sitting with my legs open and my hands on my inner thighs, lightly caressing them back and forth. I don't need extraordinary senses to hear his gulp over the hum of the engine.
"However much you can afford," I whisper, letting my breath wash over his tired face. He nods and peels out of the alley, driving towards the freeway, his foot heavy on the gas pedal. He eases up after merging off the ramp and lets one hand roam over to rest on my leg, sliding it up and down the curve of my hip. Every touch reminds me of nights long past, reminding me that fundamentally some men have weak minds and are easily persuaded. I wonder if he pictures me as daughter, or a sister, maybe even a mother. More than likely I was just a means to an end, a quick potential fuck.
"So what's your name, baby?" he rasps, fingers travelling across my skin and dipping into the V between my thighs.
"Bella," I tell him. "My name is Bella."
"Bella, Bella, Bella…" he chimes, a chuckle escaping his thin lips. "Pretty name for a pretty girl."
"You think?" I drawl. He nods eagerly, fingers curling against my pale skin in his sad attempt to leave his mark on me. "So what's your name then?"
"Sam," he supplies, complying to my question without hesitation. He seems shocked with himself; shocked that he let his name slip.
"And tell me, Sam, does your wife know where you are?" I ask, fixing him with my steely gaze. I can see the vein in his temple pulsing, the answer straining against the confines of his lips.
"No," he admits. "She thinks I'm staying over at the office tonight."
"Ah, I see. Now tell me, what's her name?"
His eyes bulge and he presses his lips tightly together. "It doesn't – what does it matter?"
"Don't make me ask again, Sam. I can be a very persuasive woman," I implore, my tone low and dangerous. Knuckles white on the steering wheel, he tears his hand away from between my thighs as if I had just burned him.
"Emily," he says, when the compulsion becomes too strong to ignore and I blink slowly in his direction.
"Emily, what a sweet name," I coo. "She sounds like a lovely wife. Is she a lovely wife, Sam?"
"I'm not attracted to her," he admits with a groan. "Not since the accident. I can't bear to look at her face."
I laugh, deep and throaty. "Is that why you come out here? To fuck pretty young girls like me while your wife sits at home waiting for you?"
"Yes," he all but screams. "What the fuck are you? I can't lie – what the fuck are you doing to me?"
I lean over and lick the shell of his ear, the car jerking as I drag my tongue across his flesh. "Nothing that you don't deserve, Sam," I hiss. "What else, baby? What else does sweet Emily not know?"
And despite the fact that he grits his teeth, the truth slips out, just like it always does. "I'm having an affair with her cousin Leah. Jesus, I can't believe – she's barely eighteen, practically jailbait. Oh, God, please stop this – she has such a sweet mouth, she lets me fuck her hard. You fucking bitch, what are you doing to me?"
I whip out to grip his wrist, squeezing so tightly that the bone snaps like a twig underneath my fingers. He cries out, the car swerves, but I hold it steady with my free hand. Sam lies back and whimpers, sobs racking his large frame and in his pain he whispers a prayer over and over. But not even God can save him now. "You're worthless, Sam. They'll both be better off without you in their lives. I just hope they don't spend too much time mourning your pathetic ass."
"Are you going to kill me?" he whines. "Please, don't. I'll confess; I'll go back to my wife. Just please –"
"Save it, you've made your choice. And I've made mine."
I spin the steering wheel sharply, sending the car careening into a ditch, twisting in midair. Sam screams, guttural sounds coming from deep within his chest as he looks at me with malice in his eyes. All I do is sneer. When the roof of the car hits the ground I know he is close to dying, death mercifully swift. I can hear his weak heart struggling to pump blood to the rest of his body. I wait with him until the sound stops and I wait until his lips turn blue and I wait until I hear the distant sounds of sirens. I place my lips to his and suck, the blood pooled in his mouth sweet on my tongue, laced with the taste of fear and adrenaline. I sigh, content, before I climb out through the broken windshield.
My clothes are dirty and my hair is a fucking mess but I look at the carnage and a sense of satisfaction creeps into the pit of my stomach. I wipe my mouth, relishing the after taste, disappearing into the night as the first police officers arrive on the scene.
The room is quiet around the three men, all sitting stoically at a round table, even the air around them stale and stagnant.
"Caius. Marcus," one of the men greets. They both nod in response. "I suppose you're both well aware as to why we must meet."
"Yes," Marcus replies. "Felix divulged the details of this…unfortunate situation."
"Unfortunate indeed," agreed Caius solemnly.
"However, she has merit. She is quick, efficient. Never leaves a trace. She's killed forty two in the span of six years. All in the same violent way; there is little to be desired about her tact, but her sheer power? Marvelous. Simply marvelous," Aro claims, his voice reverent and yearning.
"Power is hardly a reason to get worked up over a young female vampire, Aro," chides Marcus, his cold fingers coming up to rub his temples.
"Such little faith, my brothers. Such little faith. Not brute force, but true power of the mind. Apparently the lovely dear holds the power of compulsion."
The other two perk up.
"Now this, is something worth investigating," purrs Marcus.
Their smiles stretch over their faces, splitting the stone visage they held so carefully.