AN ~ Hmm. That last chapter wasn't as long as I had thought. Oh well, you lucky ppl are getting a second chapter!
Terminology: In England, 'merry' means being just a little bit drunk (my friend uses it and I laugh every time coz I always think of Xmas)
Disclaimer: Twilight, not mine, we've been through this
Reviews anyone?
Chapter Eight: Temptation
Carlisle:
We parked outside the establishment – if you could call it that – where the unfortunate target of two angry vampires was drinking with his friends. He was oblivious to the danger he was in, totally careless of the pain he caused every one of his victims - a ripple effect through the rest of their lives. His ignorance made me even more furious, but I was careful not to show it. I was supposed to be a father figure, a roll model for Edward to learn from. If that meant going against my emotions, my instincts, then so be it. This was the right thing.
The smell of alcohol and cigars was thick in the still night air. Lorrie, the man Edward had pointed out, laughed like a merry hyena. It was so like Royce King's; Rosalie's cruel, tricksy ex-fiancée. For one horrifying moment, I was again back in the streets of Rochester, seventy-odd years ago, crouched over the battered, abused body of Rosalie Hale. Her happiness destroyed, her future snatched away from her young hands, her life torn to shreds in a matter of minutes.
That could have been Bella, not an hour ago.
Go, Edward, I told him. He gladly disappeared, off to watch over his beloved Bella like a guardian angel. After pausing to marvel at the radical changes Edward was going through, I returned my attention to the task at hand.
...
Lorrie.
Lawrence James Hobson.
I had treated him for pneumonia when he was a little boy. He was such a good child...it's painful to see how good children can end up.
I watched from the car as Lorrie wandered away from his table out the front of the dingy, dishevelled bar. I felt my posture shift even though I didn't consciously change my position: my prey was alone, the hunt had begun.
Lorrie lit a cigarette and, puffing lazily, sauntered along the footpath in front of the building. I clenched the steering wheel tightly, all instincts screaming at me to take down my prey while he was unprotected, unaware. I was motionless for now, but getting restless.
Not yet, I told myself, forcing myself to stay still. One twitch of my ankle and Lorrie would be dead within five seconds. The Volturi would be onto me, and I would follow my victim within the week. But never - never - had the urge to kill a human been so strong, so tempting...
No. You're better than that, Carlisle. Anger will not control you.
I took a deep, cleansing breath. Only a portion of my anger disappeared, but I certainly had more control. I continued to watch Lorrie, but the predatorial instincts of the vampire in me were not the ones I was listening to. Reciting every action in my head to keep myself focused, I reached my hands into my bag and prepared the sedative somewhere he was sure not to see it.
Suddenly, I froze. Lorrie must have seen me watching him, because he tilted his head and started walking towards the car. I wasn't ready. I had to get away - now. Snatching the syringe and sedative out of my back without a second thought, I rushed out the opposite side door and hid in the patch of trees that lined the car park. It was not ideal, but it definitely smelt better than the humid, smoke-filled air.
Just a few feet away, Lorrie examined the car with a tilt of his head. Having decided he must have been seeing things, he shrugged and took another puff of his cigarette as he wandered back towards the table, where his one conscious friend was shuffling a pack of cards. Lorrie opened another two beers and sat down, dealing casino chips to his friend as the other two patrons sharing their table slid off their chairs to the cold, dusty, concrete floor.
From somewhere out of my field of vision, I heard high heels and giggling from higher up the street. I looked for the sound and much to my horror a pair of six- or seventeen year old girls rounded the corner, drunk beyond all reason. I was surprised they could even walk. If a white rabbit happened to cross their path, they would follow it without question. The perfect victims for men like Lorrie. And I very much doubted they had anyone to protect them - if they did, why would they be walking dangerous streets in the middle of the night, as drunk as anything?
Lorrie's friend wolf-whistled, setting aside his cards, and they both stood up. In my head, I heard the taunts Rosalie's fiancé and his friends had shouted at her that fateful night so many years ago. I took another look at the girls, so innocently walking into the spider's web. Drunk and terribly irresponsible though they might be, it was a horrible fate for anyone to face, let alone such young girls, with so much potential.
I gritted my teeth. I had to act quickly. I tapped the syringe a little harder than necessary to get the air out, reminding myself that if I wanted to kill the man I could just do it the quick way. Bent low, I snuck along the hedge I had been hiding in. I was still obstructed, but if someone was looking for anything unusual, they'd certainly find it.
"Good evening, ladies," Lorrie greeted loudly. To my ears, he sounded like an irritated camel, but judging by the excited whispers that followed, the girls hadn't noticed.
"Oh, look Tessa, he's talking to you…" The shorter of the two elbowed her friend, stumbling for a moment.
"Of course he is, Chels, this is hot stuff." The one called Tessa flicked her chemically straightened blond hair over her shoulder and smiled seductively with glossy pink lips. Lorrie's grin widened as he started walking towards them. The gap between the predator and his prey were closing, and I needed to get in the middle fast.
Lorrie was alone out the front of the pub. His friend had wandered back into the building. He had nothing to do with Bella, Edward had assured me, and so I didn't worry about him: I had no experience on which to judge the stranger. That was one witness down but, ill-functioning though their observation and decision skills may be, the girls still posed a problem.
Keeping myself bend low, I dashed back down the street to the property around the corner; an apartment building with lights flashing and music pounding. A silver purse with a long chain glistened in the purple, pink, green flashing lights of the nearest room's disco ball.
"Tessa! Chelsea!" I called. The footsteps stopped. "You dropped your hand bag!" In truth, there was no way of telling if it was one of theirs. I didn't really care - it would have to do for now.
"I knew I'd left something…ha ha…" Chelsea mumbled. The girls, still giggling and stumbling, jogged over in their high heels. Before they rounded the corner, I abandoned the bag – and a fifty dollar note, praying they would have the sense to get a cab the rest of the way home - and rushed towards Lorrie.
He was waiting for the girls to return, a satisfied grin already on his face, eyes glazed over with imaginings. Crinkling my nose against the bitter scents of beer and cigarette smoke, I slipped the needle into his skin and squeezed the plunger before he got a good look at me. His weight sagged against me, and though it was easy to bear, I couldn't keep my attention off that acrid odour. Edward's car would probably smell like drink and smoke for a week. Still, it was better that than killing him, and at least for now the girls were safe.
I dumped Lorrie's body in the back seat and then slumped in the driver's seat, exhausted by tonight's efforts. My anger, my desire to avenge Esme and Rosalie, my hatred for men like Lorrie and the pain they caused: all that remained. It lingered around me like diseased air. I rubbed my hands over my face and sighed. This was the best I could do. No man, even ones like this, deserved to die. I'd make sure Lorrie was found and sent to prison. He would live and I would be protecting the young women of the Port Angeles area.
I put my foot down, determined to get Lorrie out of the car before I changed my mind...which I was very tempted to do. As I drove away, I heard the remnants of the girls' conversation.
"Hey, where'd he go?" Tessa wondered.
"I dunno, but he was gross," Chelsea replied. Thank God one of them had recovered some sense. "I'm calling a cab. I wanna get the hell out of this freaky neighbourhood."
I pressed my foot down harder.