eleven
may
Hard is the heart that loved naught in May.
- - - Geoffrey Chaucer "The Romance of the Rose"
o.o.o
Perhaps unconventionally, Bella's favorite advantage of her recent physiological improvements is not the ability to stay up for days without sleeping or finally be on a level playing field with the rest of the vampires in her life - rather, she most enjoys being able to read and walk at the same time without actually paying attention to her surroundings. She no longer has to devote a conscious part of her mind to tracking where stairs and walls are as her senses and the increased competency of her mind keep track of those things by rote. Bella can just read and it's wonderful even if Edward takes a strange pleasure in teasing her about it.
The night before had been one of her sleeping nights, a full four hours wrapped in the safety of her mate's arms while they both did their best to ignore the electricity sparking between them wherever their skin touched. She thinks Edward must have it harder - pardoning the pun, of course - because he does not have the reprieve of sleep. That and Bella had an awful habit of hitching her leg over his hip in her sleep and she has woken to more than one morning of bashful behavior as he eases away from her touch, trying his damnedest to respect the thin boundaries that they have erected - again, pardoning the pun.
Bella sighs as she enters the kitchen, setting her book on the counter. She'd just missed the entirety of the last poem, so distracted is she by Edward's lingering scent on her clothes, her hair. It's a good thing that he'd just left to go retrieve his Volvo because Bella has sex on the brain and just the thought of being that close to him made her teeth ache - along with a few choice other places.
Charlie has already left for the day, so Bella busies herself making her thermos of coffee, which is decidedly different from the coffee she drank a few months ago. Although the strength of the coffee has remained unchanged, she has taken to flavoring her black Columbian roast with blood from Edward's most recent kill. This morning is elk - not her favorite, but a welcome relief to the low burn in her throat. She's found that remaining moderately hydrated with an influx of lifeblood - a cup or so a day - managed the bloodlust wrought by attending high school. Bella is gratified that her ongoing caffeine addiction incorporates parts of her new diet so easily.
She goes to sit on the railing of the front porch, ankles crossed as she drinks and reads, turning pages while she waits for Edward to arrive. Inevitably, she becomes so absorbed in her book that she fails to realize that the Volvo has pulled up to the house until Edward's hands are bracketing her hips, his lips meeting her own in a darting kiss. She chases his lips as he pulls back with a low chuckle, tracing the edge of her book with a raised brow.
"Slyvia Plath? That's a bit…"
Bella rolls her eyes, balancing The Bell Jar on the railing in favor of curling her hands around the nape of Edward's neck, thumb tapping against her bite mark on his throat. "Aside from the whole head-in-the-oven thing, she was a very misunderstood woman. Her work is sheer brilliance," Bella argues, applying pressure to his shoulders to reel him in.
"Is that so?"
He leans toward her willingly, tilting his chin upward slightly to make up for the reversal in their height difference; with Bella elevated by the rail, his nose is level with her chin, and she relishes in the advantage that gives her, allowing easier access to wrap her arms fully around his shoulders without strain. They exchange several long kisses, her knees parting just enough for him to step closer as the intensity ratchets - a releases a sub-vocal growl when she pulls his bottom lip between her teeth just a touch too hard, splitting his granite skin for a second, the venom-blood from the quick-healing cut jolting across her taste buds. She pulls back, licking her lips, and dives back in for a series of hot, open-mouthed kisses that set her on fire.
Her head is spinning by the time he drags himself away, hands white-knuckled around the railing as he breathes hard, eyes closed. Her heart thuds - once - in her chest, gaze lingering on the way his dark bronze lashes rest against the strong planes of his face. He's so beautiful. He is hers.
"We should go to school," he says after a moment, clearing his throat.
Bella smiles sweetly, so utterly charmed by him. If he could blush, she's sure his ears would be red; as it is, she still blushes enough for both of them. She slips off the railing, grabbing her thermos and her book while Edward retrieves her backpack. But before she gets into the Volvo, she stops in her tracks. "Hold on," she sighs. "I forgot to get the newspaper."
"I'll get it," he replies with a smirk. "It's the least I can do for distracting you so thoroughly."
She arches her brows while he jogs back to the front porch, reaching down for the folded issues of The New York Times and The Seattle Times that she had completely forgotten about that morning. "Actually, I think it was me who distracted you," she counters glibly.
Her smile falls when he doesn't respond. He has gone vampire-still on the front porch, eyes zipping back and forth across the headline that she hasn't read yet, face slack of any emotion. It's incredibly disturbing.
"Edward?" she asks - and then her phone rings and she fishes it out of her pocket, eyes still riveted on her too-still mate, intent to dismiss the call. Only, it's Alice and Alice doesn't ever call without a reason. Bella blinks, then answers the phone, thumb passing over the glass screen. "Alice?"
"You and Edward need to come to the house," Alice breathes on the other side.
Bella's brows furrow, but she nods slowly. "Alright. We'll be right there."
Alice hangs up without another word, presumably to make other calls to gather the rest of the Cullens back to homebase. Bella pockets her phone, then pops open the passenger door, settling herself in the seat as she waits for Edward to do the same. Even with whatever caught his attention in the newspaper, she knows that he'd heard the short conversation and would respond in time. And soon enough, Edward had blurred into the Volvo, newspapers flopping onto the center console as he puts the car into reverse and speeds off in the most direct route to the Cullen house.
Bella opens her mouth to ask what had taken him aback in such a bizarre manner - maybe even to ask what he thought Alice was calling them all away from school for - but her teeth click together as she catches sight of the headline that had obviously rendered him speechless.
SEATTLE SERIAL KILLER? Among A Rash Of Disappearances and Bloodless Murders A Pattern Has Emerged!
Her stomach drops and she reaches for The Seattle Times, spreading out the front matter and reading the article there, and then the continuation on the next page - absorbing all the details that the police were willing to release about the frightening string of violence riddling the streets of Seattle. The most striking detail, of course, is the conundrum of the state of the bodies that are found. Each of them with their throats ripped out, bodies completely devoid of blood and no blood found at the scene. Her first thought is probably the same as Edward's - vampire.
Could one vampire do so much damage? Already ten unsolved disappearances, which the police think are just murders that don't have crime scenes yet, and a stunning thirty actual murders with the same or similar modus operandi. It seems excessive for just one vampire - so, then, was it more than one?
The answer, she soon finds out, is a resounding yes.
In fact, the answer is worse then yes - the real explanation is several newborns, which explains why there are just so many bodies. And worse than several newborns is Jasper's grim explanation - delivered as he shakes the fisted copy of the newspaper above his head with dark eyes and pinched lips - that the newborns are probably created by one person, which is why the artless ripping of the throats is so consistent. One sire in Seattle was intent on creating an army.
Gathered in the Cullen living room with the rest of the coven, Bella's knees are weak when Alice appears at the foot of the stairs, her stare grave and only partially aware. "It's Victoria," she declares tonelessly.
A snarl bursts out of Edward's chest in response to the vision he has seen in Alice's mind. Bella hesitates for a moment, then curls her pinky around Edward's, plucking at the instant-reply of Alice's vision. She doesn't understand, at first, who Victoria is, not until she catches the fuzzy glimpse of her face that Alice had seen - cat-like crimson eyes and a riot of firebrand hair paired with a shaky uncertainty of reality that is vividly clear in her expression.
Victoria - the mate of James and the vampire who had declared war on the Cullen coven. Or, more precisely, on Edward and Bella, for it was his hands that had kick-started James' demise and Bella's blood that had tempted James' lust.
"A mate for a mate," Victoria mutters to herself in the vision - and there is a flash of dozens of vampires with human-red eyes of the newly-turned - and the snarling curl of Victoria's mouth as she lunges at the whisper-thin images of Edward and Bella. Nothing about the vision is substantial, nothing except for Victoria's motivation.
Bella drops her hand with a shiver. "Are your visions always so-"
"I almost can't see her!" Alice wails.
"Wasn't she gifted?" Carlisle asks calmly, surveying the room.
Emmett, wrapped around Rosalie protectively from behind, says gruffly, "Had a hell of a time chasing her down, that's for sure."
"Evasion," Edward adds. "The gift of evasion. Victoria is only caught if she wants to be caught - and she's fast."
Alice rubs at her temples. "She's giving me a headache. I don't think its intentional on her part, I don't believe that she means to interfere with my visions, but it also seems like she can't settle on a decision, either. Edward, do you think-"
He shakes his head. "If she's indecisive now, then that's new, probably a byproduct of James' death. Her mind was clear to me before."
Alice growls in frustration, delicate, fine-boned features screwed together tightly.
To Bella's surprise, however, Jasper doesn't rush to comfort his mate - that duty is left to Esme, who coaxes Alice to sit on the other end of the couch while Jasper begins to pace back and forth, spine rigidly straight, expression fierce. When he speaks, his words are clipped and authoritative, nothing at all like the soft-spoken Texan that Bella has come to view as her brother. This, she will come to understand, is a relic of his past, a part of his personality that he has pushed down - the Major has come to the call of duty.
"I know it ain't your way to go to war, Carlisle, and I respect that - but this ain't the time for pussyfoottin' with the safety of our family. I will be takin' this bitch out before she can take me from mine," he declares boldly, raising his chin in invitation of defiance and looking for all the world like he would not hesitate to take Carlisle out if the patriarch saw fit to stand in Jasper's way.
For the first time, Bella catches a glimpse of something that the tame vampires in her life have kept hidden - the beast that is within them all, the demon that thirsts for blood and violence, the monster waiting beneath the pretty surface. Does she have that, too? Is it strange that she hopes she does?
Carlisle's deliberation is incredibly short. He nods his head curtly. "Unfortunately, I do not see any other course of action. This vampire has already violated the sanctity of human life and has begun to draw attention from the human world. If we do not step in, then the Volturi will."
Mention of the Volturi focuses Bella's attention and she stands with her shoulders thrown back. "We need to tell Aro - before he finds out in another way. I will not hide this from my Grandfather, especially because it is my blood that has caused all of this strife in the first place -"
"Bella," Edward frowns, skating his fingers over her clothed shoulder. "Love, it's not your fault -"
"But it is," she says. "Don't you see? You and the wolves killed James to protect me and I'm glad for it because I'm still here with you - but Victoria's actions are now my responsibility."
"Bella, no-"
"Isabella is right to take responsibility," says another voice, orotund and firm. Mele walks into the living room from the kitchen, Bella's ever-faithful teacher, her personal guard, drawn inside by their conversation. Mele's declaration draws a series of hisses from the Cullens, but she ignores them all, training her persimmon eyes steadfastly on Bella's face. "It is no less than what the princess of our world should do, mtoto, and no more than Master Aro would expect of you."
Bella nods - in understanding, in agreement, in confirmation. Her place in the world is predetermined and for that reason, she does have a role to play that she cannot avoid. She is the only living descendant of one of the Kings of the Volturi and that means that it is her duty to care for the safety of their world in the place of her Grandfather - whether the Cullens accepted this did not dismiss the factual basis of the argument.
Once again - for the third time in the last ten months - Bella's world spins on its axis, realigning itself with a new normal that she can only assimilate to for fear of quailing under a new pressure.
"I'll make the call myself," she announces. "Carlisle, may I use your office?"
"Of course, Bella," he agrees serenely, ignoring the incredulous reaction of the rest of the Cullens.
Bella breathes deeply, centering herself before she moves toward the staircase, pausing with her foot on the bottom step. "Edward?"
"I'm here, love," he says from behind her, palm low on her back with just enough pressure to ground her feet firmly to the Earth.
o.o.o
o.o.o
You don't have to do this, Edward thinks as they reach the privacy of Carlisle's office, his hands slipping down her wrists to lace their fingers together, his chest pressed against her back, nose in the crook of her neck.
He is doing is very best to ignore the swirl of thoughts a floor beneath them, but he doesn't have her ability to completely immerse himself into her mind. His telepathy is limited to only surface thoughts, and so it is Bella that pulls him deeper, bridging the gap between their mental spaces with a slow sigh, relaxing into his touch as much as she relaxes into the chaotic scape of his mind.
Her mate is anxious. He doesn't like the direction that she has just taken. The flare of protective concern washes over her like salty water, prickling as it dries into a weariness that is so unsuitable for him; Edward had done so much growing since he first met her, but even that much maturation cannot sway the immature urge he has to take her and hide her away from the world. He is so threatened by Victoria, but more so is he threatened by the idea that the Volturi would sink their ever-lasting claws into her.
His pain is her own and so she seeks to sooth him as best as she is able.
Edward…I know we never talked about it, but there was a time - once - when you had second thoughts about bringing me into your world, letting me in on the secret, she thinks, squeezing his hands as his mind trails after her, chasing the smoky ghost of her thought process with his fullest attention. Only, it's not just your world. It's my world, too. It's been my world since I was born. And I have to believe that if I was made for you and you were made for me, then I was also made for this. Do you understand? It's part of my destiny - I've been part of the Volturi and I will be part of the Volturi. It's my birthright.
It is, he agrees reluctantly. But that does not make it any easier to let you go-
Who ever said anything about leaving? She interrupts. Aro might have designs in that direction, but it's not what I want. I want you and this life. Wherever that is.
Bella, in doing this, you must understand what conclusions will be drawn.
And they won't be erroneous conclusions, Edward, she tells him bluntly. Because Mele is right - we might have been tap-dancing around it, but I am as close as it gets to being a princess in this world. I'm Aro's heir. This would have been something I had to do at some point and I have no issues in taking advantage of this station to help us fix this issue with Victoria before more lives are forfeit.
Edward marvels silently at her sensibility, but the moment is broken by Alice's voice chiming from downstairs.
"It's time," she says, still shaky from what Bella knows is a series of rapid-fire visions that kaleidoscope out of Alice's control.
Bella dials the satellite phone that rests atop Carlisle's desk, listening to the annoying trill of the dial-tone for several long, too-quiet moments. The entire family - and Mele - are listening in, utterly still so as to not miss a word. Part of her loathes the attention, but there is no other recourse. This isn't exactly news she wants to break in a letter and time is very much of the essence.
The other line finally clicks, Aro's jovial voice rolling directly into a winsome greeting. "Ah, Carlisle, I did not think I would hear from you so soon-"
"Grandfather," she interjects smoothly.
"Precious? To what do I owe this distinct pleasure?" Aro asks, tone shifting to become cautious, edged with a danger that had kept him alive for three thousand years.
"I believe we have a problem," she says.
Aro sighs, long-suffering and irritated in equal turns. "I dare say, I am growing to despise these phone calls, Granddaughter, for it seems that you never have any reason to call me until you are the bearer of displeasing news. I much prefer our letters."
"So do I," she admits before launching directly into the explanation of events in Seattle and Alice's predictions. She leaves nothing out, including every detail she recalls from the newspaper article verbatim, no matter how miniscule that detail might be. It could be important, maybe even vital to a decision made in Volterra, should it come to that. When she is done, outlining the issues with Alice's visions and Victoria's gifts and Jasper's theory - along with Jasper's intentions to cut down the threat as soon as possible - she holds her breath in her lungs, waiting for Aro to come to a decision.
Aro clicks his tongue, displeased. "Darling, thank you for alerting me to this so quickly. As of yet, we have not heard of any issues in Seattle, but sometimes these matters are contained by covens in the area and we do not learn of them until years afterward. I must be frank and confess that it is disarming to be brought into the loop so quickly, for you must understand that covens do not seek Volturi aid unless it is a final option."
"I had surmised as much," she replies dryly. It had been part of Edward's hesitation and she knew that Jasper felt similar compunctions. The Volturi were feared and respected - but mostly feared. It did not tend to bode well if their attention was brought to specific covens.
"I must speak to my brothers about this, precious," Aro says bleakly. "It is unfortunately not a decision I am able to make without counsel, for there are many factors to consider. Until such time that I am able to deliver a consensus to you, I advise that you allow Major Whitlock and the Cullen coven to go about their plans."
"Understood, Grandfather."
"I am pleased to hear, however, that you are taking your rightful place in our world," he murmurs with a touch of satisfaction. "Do take care of your self, my Granddaughter."
"I will," she promises, the call disconnecting in the next moment. But even as she promises that, she makes another promise to herself - that her loyalty would always be first to her mate and to the protection of human life.
It is a promise that Edward returns with a fierce kiss that sends her head spinning with lust and adoration.
o.o.o
o.o.o
It's difficult to go to school the next day acting as if nothing is wrong - as if Bella hadn't just embraced a new place in the world, as if she didn't know what the violence in Seattle was about. It's even harder to sit in the guidance counselor's office and listen to the middle-aged man behind the over-clutter desk rattle off the colleges that had reached out to seek her admission for the fall semester. Universities Bella hadn't even applied to had gotten hold of her transcript and spontaneously offered scholarships and boarding in September.
"Consider these safety schools," Mr. Preet says with an awkward smile. "Have you heard from the places that you did apply to, Isabella?"
She nods placidly. Her acceptance letters had been hand-delivered by a gruffly-tearful Charlie in April and had been quite the topic in the Cullen household for a few days before Bella had put her foot down and announced that she would be deferring for another year - mostly to stop Edward from actually going through with his plan to test out of his senior year and bribe whatever college she selected to admit him, as well. Absurd boy.
"I'm deferring for a year," Bella relays blandly.
Mr. Preet's eyes widen, his hands shuffling the papers across his desk in apparent shock. "Miss Swan, are you quite sure that's wise? Even your safety schools have acceptance rates below the national average - very selective, I'm sure you understand -"
"I do understand, Mr. Preet, but I'm also sure that the Ivy Leagues will understand my desire to travel across Europe to enrich my world perspective," she says, easily presenting her cover story for the next year, a contingency plan that she'd intended to sow into the Forks gossip mill as soon as possible to explain, among other things, her potential extended absence after June. There was no telling how long she would be in Volterra. "Gap years aren't that uncommon, are they?"
"I suppose not," he replies. "I-I'll have to draft letters to all these schools - I didn't even know that Humboldt did early admission…"
Bella contains her sigh. This is the absolute last topic she wants to discuss - what did it matter if, in the end, Bella would have an eternity to attend each of those universities? Maybe she should ask Charlie which school he likes and decide like that. Of course, she would have to factor in year-round weather conditions because she's sure not even night classes would make it easier to attend her previous dream school at Stanford.
Dartmouth, then? Or maybe Yale.
Oh, I can't even think about this until after this Victoria situation is dealt with, she thinks irritably.
And then there's the other consideration - her recent geopolitical move to embracing her birthright, which hasn't had any consequences yet, but which may also complicate the matter of her attending college. Aro didn't understand the concept of "playing human" in his castle in Volterra, but Bella hadn't yet given up hope that she could realign her life back on track, as if all this vampire drama had never derailed her goals.
She could and would have it all - it was just a matter of maneuvering at this point.
Bella Swan is a patient girl - hybrid, whatever.
She sighs aloud this time, pasting on a wan smile as she stands, hoisting her backpack over her shoulder easily. "If that's all, Mr. Preet, I really should be getting to Physics."
He waves her off, frazzled by the sheer load of work he'd now have to do in turning down offers on her behalf for all those admissions. She thinks it might be the most excitement he's seen in his job for ages.
o.o.o
o.o.o
Everything is up in the air - and they are all waiting, breathless with anticipation and taut with tension, for something to come crashing back down to the surface. Where is the other shoe when you want it to drop?
For now, it is in the days that tick over with continued reports of murders and disappearances in Seattle, in the clock that chimes yet another hour where Aro has not called with a decision from Volterra, in the sleepless nights that make Bella resort to fueling her body with blood rather than rest.
By the second week in May when the chilly weather finally abates and the clouds are absent of rain, it feels as if all they have done is wait and that is how Bella discovers that anxiety is a cloistering, coyly bittersweet scent that festers in the air.
Everything is up in the air - until it is not.
o.o.o
o.o.o
"Show me again," Mele demands, hand held out palm-side up.
Bella's fingers hadn't strayed far since the last time Mele had asked - just a few moments ago, actually - and so it is an immediate surge as their skin meet again. The same memory? She clarifies, a bit miffed as to Mele's continued curiosity on this topic - and more than a bit interested in Mele's fixation because she senses that Mele is looking for a confirmation of a theory, for evidence that she can use, and Bella has come to trust that Mele is nothing if not thorough and exacting.
Yes, Mele replies succinctly.
Bella again summons the memory of James' attack, the ghost of his hands and teeth and helplessness cresting over her awareness. It's an uncomfortable memory, one she would rather not revisit. But - and this is true of all things in life - discomfort is a necessary evil. She's idly thankful that Edward is at the Cullen house for the moment. She can't imagine that he would approve of she and Mele continually analyzing a rather traumatic memory from top to bottom.
Yet despite Bella's commitment to seeing that she give her fullest attention to entertaining whatever it is that Mele is searching for, she is so relieved when Mele folds her hands together and declares, "That is enough."
Bella flexes her fingers, tucking them into the sleeves of one of Charlie's old flannel shirts. She'd been cleaning the house when Mele had arrived and the sharp scents of homemade cleaners - vinegar, lemon, and baking soda - are beginning to drift out of the open windows. Learning to clean with enhanced senses had been a series of trials and errors until she'd given up with store-bought cleaners and asked for tutelage from Esme, who had been only too happy to help. But even Esme's advice and Bella's new arsenal of homeopathic cleaners could soothe the moderately acrid scent from her nose; the hang-time of scents was ridiculous, honestly.
She was glad for Mele's interruption, although she wishes the sun would have allowed them to do this exercise outside rather than in the kitchen.
"What were you looking for?" Bella asks when Mele makes to stand. "In that memory, I mean? What could be so important?"
Mele's full lips pull into a considering frown. "Mtoto, I do not believe that your gift is what we have assumed."
Bella's brows shoot up in unmasked surprise. "I always thought it was rather straight-forward, actually."
"No," Mele replies, tilting her head to the side. "I must seek consultation in this matter. While I can sense that you are gifted and I can absorb that gift myself, I cannot understand the mechanics or identify its functionality myself - not without completely removing the gift from you."
"But you know someone who can do that," Bella realizes astutely.
Mele's eyes crinkle in the faintest of smiles. She runs her finger down the side of Bella's face, a small token of affection for anyone else, but a blatantly fond gesture for Mele. "I will return shortly. Rely on no-one else for your safety, mtoto, and trust your instincts."
"I will," Bella promises, but by the time the words tumble out, Mele has already disappeared from Charlie's spotless kitchen and Bella is left to ponder over Mele's meaning by herself.
If she is being honest - and Bella is always honest - then she has sensed something in her gift that was not as peaceable as the rest of her apparent power. Something insidious, hungry, dark and shadowy. Something that had begun to ravage James' mind, something that even Edward had brushed upon, and something that they both wondered at - when they weren't distracted by newspapers and each other, of course.
It was perhaps a good thing that Mele seemed prepared to devote her full attention to this.
Bella hopes she will return with answers.
o.o.o
o.o.o
She had once compared running with Edward as being on the roof of a racecar and it had been thrilling, but that had also been before she was a racecar, too - and she finds that the comparison is pale in contrast to the actual experience of running full-tilt at vampire speed. She is not as fast as Edward, but then again, nobody is. The joy he feels in unleashing the entire throttle of his speed is the same elation she feels as she runs at his side, gliding through the forest at such incomprehensible velocity that the high-definition world around her takes on a surreal quality. They are nowhere near to breaking the sound barrier, but it feels like it and that is good enough.
Her mate is startlingly competitive, though. He pushes his longer legs faster and she huffs as she tries to keep pace, falling short by a clear quarter-mile when he puts his mind to it. "You complete show-off," she gripes good-naturedly.
Edward laughs, quietly boisterous, and spins on his heel, stopping on a dime with a wide boyish smile as he waits for her to catch up. "You're not upset that you lost, are you, love?"
Bella closes the distance between them with the toes of her boots bumping against his and she rolls her eyes. "Of course not," she says with a tone of superiority. "I am not a child and unlike you and Emmett and Jasper, I understand the difference between quantity and quality."
"Oh?"
She arches a brow, smile curling at the corners of her mouth. "You see, when I win, I savor the victory so as not to spoil it with plotting the course to my next inevitable win and that makes it all the more sweet."
Edward's hands slide down to the small of her back, pressing their bodies together as his eyes darken flirtatiously. "But isn't there something people say?" he counters, dipping his head to capture her lips, pulling away with a stinging nip that makes her shiver against him. "To the victors go the spoils?"
She shakes her head minutely, the movement brushing their lips together just slightly, a tease. "I don't think that means what you think it means, you braggart."
"Me, a braggart?" Edward widens his eyes facetiously. "I would never."
"Very arrogant," she informs him with a sly smile.
"Confident because I win so very often," he counters.
Bella giggles. "Oh, you're humble, too."
"And don't you forget it," he mutters, kissing her again - this time more firmly, long enough to steal her breath and rouse the coil of tension below her navel. Her lips part obligingly beneath his as she stretches up on her toes, winding her arms around his neck to play with the soft hair at the nape of his neck. Edward grasps her hips, then runs his hands upward until his skin slips beneath the thin marled cyan sweater hanging loosely from her body. As his hands palm her lower back, fingers skittering up and down her spine to flirt with the band of her bra, the connection between their minds reveals a trace of thoughts that makes her smirk against his heated kisses.
It seems that Edward really likes her habit of wearing shorts, especially dark denim that contrasts with the milky tone of her complexion. And attached to that thought is an intense gratification that she has a collection of socks that reach her knees and bunch around her ankles and hide the delicate jut of her bones from the eyes of other men - he might enjoy her legs, but coming from a time where only husbands saw the ankles of their wives, she almost can't grasp just how much he appreciates her propensity for chunky boots and knit footwear fabrics.
Edward pulls back, his palms sloping down to the curve of her hips as he closes his eyes in apparent mortification. "You…heard all of that, didn't you?"
She traces the shell of his ear, eliciting a soft growl, followed by a rather bashful expression. "What, that you have some appreciation for parts of my body? Edward, surely you must realize that I also have unique preferences," she says gently, trying to soothe him of this sudden embarrassment. She flattens her hands firmly down the line of his shoulders, then scrapes her nails over his biceps and forearms, before grasping one of his hands within her own and marveling over the length of his pianist fingers; she does not hide any of her thoughts, even as her face flames at the honesty pouring from her mind, at the exposure of some of her more vivid fantasies.
This time, his growl is nothing short of predatory as he backs her against a tree, looming over her with dark, dark eyes. "Bella," he warns, and she knows that he is on the precipice of his control, that he has already pushed their physical relationship much further than even she had expected. Chaste as many of his touches are, she is reassured that this thoughts are decidedly not.
Bella squeezes his hand, then smiles sweetly. "I don't mind that you're an ass-man, Edward, or that you have some very particular thoughts about my legs," she says, then silently adds, The ankle thing isn't even that odd, considering the time period in which you were raised. And now that I know, I promise that I will make efforts to keep my ankles covered around other men, lest you be motivated to pummel some poor human into the ground.
You don't have to-
Nonsense. It's not as though I'm a provocative dresser anyway, but it's nice to know there is a way to provoke you.
Edward sighs, leaning his forehead against her own, rumbling softly when she skates her thumb beneath the purple shadow under his eye. "I think there's a herd of elk nearby," she verbalizes. They had come this far into the forest surrounding Forks for a reason after all. They were both quite thirsty and it was in their best interest to hunt frequently while all of this Victoria drama was still up in the air. Bella's eyes had darkened into deep viridian and Edward had been sporting umber for the past few days.
He pressing a final kiss against her lips before they agree to hunt in separate directions. Bella might be fine with elk, but Edward has a taste for big game. That's fine; they'll meet in their meadow when they're each done.
Bramble rustles beneath his feet at his speedy departure and Bella takes several long breaths to gather her wits, staring at the length of her legs with speculation. Pale, but shapely and toned and apparently exposed often enough that her mate has to make concerted efforts to stare at her face rather than her body. She smiles to herself, zooming off with barely a whisper in the direction of the elk, following the warm, gamey scent and the hot thud of multiple hearts.
She doesn't feel thirst exactly the same way as full-vampires do - her throat burns, of course, but not to the point of distraction or unbearable pain. Not unless she's hunting and giving into instincts that urge fangs to drop lower in her mouth, the diaphanous points glimmering with a trace of venom just strong enough to paralyze her prey for a moment. Her fangs dig into the broken neck of an older buck like hot knives through butter, her eyes fluttering closed as she drinks her fill. The rush of new blood into her system makes her skin hotter than usual, a flush rising over her chest and cheeks. When she is done, she hauls the buck beneath a tree knowing that she has left just enough blood in the body that a bear would be attracted to the remainder of her kill, a tip she had picked up from Emmett, who had an obsession with bears that Bella didn't even want to touch upon.
Bella reaches the meadow first, but that isn't surprising. She's still rather clinical about hunting - the Cullens like to make a game of it, which is why hunts last days when the weather is sunny. There is some sort of complex scoring system that Esme keeps tabs on and Bella is at the bottom of the bracket. Not that she minds. She's still a bit too human to play with her food.
She lays in the middle of a patch of newly-blooming wildflowers, plucking one from the ground to spin between her fingers - still amazed by the details that she missed for so long, like the veiny, square plant cells that pattern the petals, or the drag of pollen dusted over one leaf, evidence that a bee had visited this bloom, as well. She brings the flower closer to her nose, inhaling deep as she closes her eyes -
And then she springs up into a low, defensive crouch, head tilted at a sharp angle toward the direction where the distinct sound of a cracking twig had echoed through the woods. All of Mele's training rushes to the forefront of her mind - because she already knows that is not her mate. The scent carried on the wind is unfamiliar to her, but definitely vampire and definitely a human-drinker.
Although, she backtracks, considering the varied bite to the scent. It almost smells like Mele - like Mele's diet.
What other vampire would hunt both humans and animals, though?
Unless that vampire was trying to transition to the vegetarian diet, she realizes as a dark-skinned, dreadlocked, persimmon-eyed male vampire steps from the shadows, his hands held up as a silent sign of surrender. She's only seen him once, but Laurent is unmistakable.
Bella straightens slightly, intrigued as he watches her, studies the changes she has undergone since the last time he laid eyes on her - changes that are surely very obvious to a vampire. She lifts her chin in challenge, in demand, in explanation, her fangs lengthening and biting against her lower lip.
Laurent steps forward, hands still aloft. "I have come with good intentions," he declares.
"That remains to be determined."
"You don't trust me."
"Do I honestly have reason to, considering who your past company has been?"
Laurent frowns. "Ah. Well, that is a good point," he concedes. "But what of the company I currently keep?"
Her eyes narrow. "You've come down from Denali, then?"
He nods earnestly. "Yes, yes. I had wanted to visit the Cullens - to thank them," he explains as he gestures to his eyes, unmistakable proof that he is being honest about at least one thing. "Because of the patriarch and his mate, I have been enlightened to a better way of life. A more honest life. I have found happiness and it was suggested that I extend my thanks in person."
Bella straightens completely. "Alright," she says cautiously. "I can take you to the Cullen house, then, if you are lost."
Laurent shakes his head, expression falling. "I was searching for you, specifically."
"And why is that?"
"Victoria," he breathes. "She has-"
Edward bursts from the other side of the meadow, quickly followed by the three gigantic shapes of the Quileute wolves, each of them growling at a terrifying volume that raises the hair on the back of her neck even though their aggression isn't directed toward her. Edward bares his teeth at Laurent, instinctively trying to hide her body with the breadth of his own lithe form. The wolves, led by Sam Uley's hulking black-furred body, fall into a triangular formation aimed directly at Laurent with the clear intent of taking him out.
Bella reacts immediately, spinning around Edward's body and calling out, "Stop! Wait, listen to him!" She turns her gaze to Edward, holding her palm toward him, offering the last several minutes; he follows her memories, then mimics her straight, unthreatened posture, cocking his head to the side as he focuses intently on Laurent.
A disturbed expression crosses the angular planes of his face. "Victoria sought you out," he says aloud.
Laurent nods, wearily eying the lumbering forms of the wolves, especially the silver-furred form of Paul who is still growling with menace. "Ah, yes," confirms Laurent. "I came through Vancouver and she was waiting for me. She wanted me to join her cause - against you and the rest of the Cullens. Retribution for the death of James, you see."
"We gathered as much," Bella divulges. "She hasn't been terribly subtle in Seattle."
"You declined to help her," Edward declares and that is enough to finally quiet Paul.
"I did," Laurent confirms, rubbing at his shoulder with a wince. "She was not pleased - but I managed to frame my disinterest in her cause as a means of placating my own mate, Irina of the Denali coven, and she allowed me to leave with my head still attached to my shoulders. I had the sense that she'd only extended an invitation to me as a matter of convenience."
Edward's newly-bright eyes alight with understanding, catching a trace of Laurent's thoughts. "She's unhinged," he realizes. "Disorganized and inconsistent, with the exception of her gift."
"Victoria has changed very much," Laurent says, discomfited by the wolves as he edges away. "When she let me go, I thought of immediately returning to Denali - but then I was not sure if you knew of her intentions already and I felt it best to continue on my way to extend gratitude to your coven. I would have never met my Irina if not for the mercy you have shown me."
And now he has confirmed what Jasper suspects and what Alice has seen, Bella thinks without reservation.
Edward looks at her, silently gauging her for some decision, which she realizes with a start after a long moment. Of course - the question of what to do with Laurent was now at her pleasure, wasn't it? Her mate was deferring to her because of her connection to the Volturi, but she didn't want that. She didn't want her mate's complacency - she wanted his opinion, his advice, the wisdom he had gained from over a hundred years of life.
"Let's discuss what to do with the family," she suggests out loud for the benefit of the wolves and Laurent. "I'm sure Jasper would appreciate any additional details you could offer, Laurent. And Sam, if you want to come along as well, I believe there is some information it would be beneficial for you to have."
"An excellent idea, love," Edward murmurs in agreement.
And in truth, it is a good idea.
Jasper grills Laurent for information about Victoria for an entire hour, then has Edward confirm his thoughts and Bella transfer Laurent's memories of the encounter directly to Jasper. And once the Cullens are confident in Laurent's loyalty to the family - specifically, his loyalty to Irina - it is then Sam Uley's turn to demand answers. For a werewolf that is vulnerable to volatile emotions, Sam takes the news of a newborn army cropping up in Seattle with relative ease. The only thing Sam wants is a guarantee that the Cullens will not interfere with his pack operating against these newly born vampires as they see fit and there is no reason for the Cullens to stand in the way of what is, all things considered, a tactical advantage.
This development, though, settles the anxiety coiling in her stomach. They have a confirmation and two new allies. It is a step in the right direction.
o.o.o
o.o.o
Dear Grandmother Sulpicia,
I am sure you are aware of the situation brewing in the greater Seattle area and the threat it exposes us all to, and for that reason I am writing to you as an entreaty for information about newborn vampires. Anything you can tell me will be of great assistance. I wish to understand them completely, Grandmother. There is only so much that the Cullen coven can tell me. I believe it would be beneficial to view any records the Volturi have on how vampires are changed - and how newborn armies are created and maintained.
Please entertain my curiosity, if for no other reason than to support the new position I seem to have taken recently.
All my love,
Your Granddaughter Isabella
o.o.o
o.o.o
Mrs. Kelley's class discussions had been as lively as she'd promised that the beginning of the year, but that didn't take away from the fact that the discussions had been observed with at least some modicum of civility. Probably because only Bella and a few members of the senior class even bothered to involve themselves and debate was then narrowed to hypotheticals. Jasper, though, has taken to this topic with an outspoken force that fluctuates with the edge of his gift as he douses the classroom in only a scant degree of his intensity - and Bella is as powerless to resist the influence as much as she is powerless to resist the real-world applicability of the topic at hand.
"World War II incited a transition in the balance of world power, but in doing that, it also created a series of complex alliances made between opposing nations - alliances that are still relevant today. My question to you, class, is if collaboration with the enemy is permissible in war?" Mrs. Kelley had posed, sitting on the edge of her desk with her arms crossed over her chest.
What other opinion could Bella have at the moment, when just a few days ago had seen the cementation of an alliance between two supernatural enemies - with an alliance between the Cullens and the Quileutes against the common enemy of Victoria and her burgeoning army?
"Of course its permissible," she declares forthrightly. "In war, you take every advantage you can in order to win. If that means that you're fighting side-by-side with your natural-born enemy, with a culture that has different views than you, then so be it. The enemy of your enemy is your friend."
"And more liable to turn 'round and stab you in the back when the threat is gone," Jasper drawls.
Bella eyes him warily; he'd not made his reluctance to ally with the Quileute pack or Laurent a secret. "If you're expecting a betrayal after the enemy is eliminated, then what do you have to be afraid of? You're already prepared to catch the knife before it finds your spine."
Jasper snorts - and so the debate is started, mostly with Bella and Jasper volleying back and forth increasingly pointed comments. The difference is simple. Jasper, who had seen war in a camp where everyone was an enemy, was more inclined to doubt war-time alliances; and Bella, who had only read about wars, maintained a level of optimism that a common enemy was enough to align opposing sides.
Maybe it did for Laurent. They truly had no doubt in his loyalty in this - but the wolves were another matter altogether, as Sam rightfully blamed the presence of vampires in ripping the beast right out of his skin and as the treaty had already been compromised once with the transformation of James' bite two months before. The alliance with La Push was tenuous at best; at worst, it was a tightrope walk with Carlisle and Sam each waiting for the other side to snap.
Could they trust this new alliance?
France had trusted America - an alliance that was still holding strong. This might be the same case, or it might be more similar to the new alliances reformed Germany held with the rest of Europe.
Time would tell.
o.o.o
o.o.o
A few days later after long, pensive silences from Jasper, he approaches her over the weekend, coming to a stop at the kitchen island where she and Esme were working on a batch of blueberry-almond muffins for the Forks Police Department.
"If we're dealin' with newborns, then all that trainin' you did with Mele isn't goin' to be enough," he declares baldly, staring at her with intensity and a sense of determined resignation. "Talk to the wolves - I don't want weak links in the ranks."
Bella does as she's bid. As she drops off the muffins for the police officers, she trails into Charlie's office and has him place a call to Billy Black, setting up a meeting between herself, Sam, Carlisle, and Jasper to create a schedule for training the wolves - and retraining the family - in how to best fight against newborns. Being a Tribal Elder and someone who should have been Chief if the Quileutes still ran their government that way, Billy had the authority to be a proxy for Sam and Bella had somehow gained that same position for Carlisle, given that Jasper didn't trust the wolves as far as he could throw them.
Charlie passes along Billy's contact information, effectively removing himself from the equation now that his connection was no longer necessary, and then he asks what else she's been cooking up with the Cullen coven's best tactician.
Bella presses her lips together. She might have won Jasper over with the wolves, but she'd had to give in to his wisdom on another matter as a fact of compromise. "We're sending Laurent to Seattle as a spy," she says with a sigh.
Charlie's brows raise high. "It's like a damn movie," he chuckles. "You have spies and alliances and political maneuvering."
Bella rolls her eyes, secretly glad for her father's blasé attitude toward the entire situation, taking as a degree of confidence he feels in her, in her decisions. "I'm so glad you find this all so entertaining, Dad."
"Well, my HBO subscription just ended. Got to have some kind of entertainment."
"It's not like we're battling for the Iron Throne!"
"Could've fooled me, kid."
And yes - perhaps Charlie has a point.
o.o.o
o.o.o
By the end of the second week in a cloudy, balmy May, Edward has taken to staying in her room overnight. She supposes she should have expected as much, given how accustomed they both came to her sleeping with him in her bed while she was transitioning at the Cullen house. The first night, he tries to stay in the chair at the corner of the room, but she sleeps such few hours that she wakes irritable the next morning and declares a few days later - when the urge to sleep takes her again - that if he was staying in her room to protect her from the red-haired vampire trying to take them both out, then he might as well stay in her bed, too.
And that - predictably - is the beginning of the final deterioration of Edward's boundaries.
There are only so many times they can share a bed with the animal-instinct tension between them before they give into hormonal urges and the drive to mate and claim that they have been doing their best to ignore since the first time they laid eyes on each other.
It is a night that Charlie is working a double shift that eventually finds Bella and Edward in a compromising position.
She's been unable to sleep, too aware of her own body by half as she lay beside her mate, him over the covers and she beneath them, as if the barrier of down feathers and cotton would be enough to still the electricity that whispers through the air between them. And her mind just wouldn't quiet, racing with too many thoughts - the issue with Victoria, her future, the Volturi's decision, graduation. None of it was conducive to meaningful rest.
Bella rolls onto her back with a sigh, head lolling to the side to catch Edward's golden gaze. "I can't sleep," she announces, a touch sour because she does feel tired - although, maybe it's a mental strain rather than fatigue. She can't tell, anymore.
Edward leans onto his elbow, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her cheek. "Would you like a book? The Art of War?"
"You're teasing me," she says, wrinkling her nose. "But just you wait, everyone will be glad that I brushed up on Sun Tzu."
"I wouldn't want to doubt your wisdom, love."
She shoves at his shoulder, hard enough that he must catch himself before he rolls off the edge of the bed. He fixes his balance with a laugh, his head tilted back far enough that her eyes snag on the alluring line of this throat, which bobs with his low laughter. Her heart flops in her chest, face heating when he quirks a brow, lips slanted into a winsome smirk. Bella looks away, sitting up and pressing the covers firmly over her lap, studiously avoiding her mate's gaze as he follows her motion, sweeping the hair away from her neck in an affectionate, completely innocent gesture. Gathering control of herself, she turns her head, intent on finding her footing in their verbal play, but her words die in her throat as she encounters his smoldering stare instead.
"Edward…"
He cups his hand to the back of her head, reeling her into a searing, sun-scorching kiss that deepens by the second - and she inhales deeply through her nose, body moving by instinct, ghosting after the lithe lines of his body as Edward reclines against the bed, slowly guiding her to kneel over him, her knees on either side of his hips. Their lips do not break contact, even as his touches grow firm, decisive as they sweep over the curve of her hips, the dip of her spine. There is no doubt that Edward is taking reign of this moment - that he was willing to cross the invisible line he'd made in the sand.
Really, it was kind of amazing he'd waited this long - that they'd both abstained from anything that wasn't strictly chaste, especially considering the mating drive of vampires, which would not rest until - well, until consummation.
Not that in mattered in that moment.
No, all that mattered to Bella was the sensation rioting through her body, that molten heat below her navel that settles between her legs with a fierce, sweet ache. She breaks away with a gasp when Edward shifts their positions again, applying pressure to her lower back so that their hips meet with a shudder of spines. His lips string a series of suckling kisses down her neck, where he laves at the hollow of her throat, eliciting a quivering, breathless keen as one of his palms successfully locates the overheated flesh around her waist -
His hand slides upward, thumb brushing against the underside of her breast.
"Oh."
Edward's chest rumbles, a low growl that vibrates through his entire body, and his hand presses against the swell of her chest, his mouth working against the crook of her neck. When his palm catches against the sensitive nub of her nipple, a zing of lust shoots directly to her core and she writhes against him thoughtlessly - before stopping, lungs tight as she realizes what she'd done, what she'd moved against.
He pulls away, lust-onyx eyes heavy as he silently watches her - still, exactly as the lion watches the lamb he is about to slaughter. And then with great deliberation, he shifts the hand on her breast until his thumb sweeps against her nipple, once again spurring her hips to move over his, where the pressure of his turgid length presses so deliciously against her slickened center. His responding smile is feral and like a man possessed, he sits up, again handling her into the position he desires her to be in, straddled over his lap with his head level to her chest. Edward turns his head, releasing a stream of cool air over her nipple as he watches her reaction, studying the way her pupils dilate, the way her mouth drops open.
He catches her lips, then, and sends one thought forward with all the weight of a freight train: Move.
Bella takes the permission with a shiver and an arch of her back, undulating against him while his hands return to her breasts. Her fingers tangle into his bronze hair, holding him against her as ardor and untamed passion run wildly through her body, guiding her body to move against her mate. The base of her spine lights up with fire and she is inflamed by her desire - just as her jaw aches with the unerring yearning to bite -
She wrenches Edward away from her breasts with a cry, capturing his mouth with vivid hunger, her elongated fangs scraping against his skin - and then he pulls away, sensing the direction of her thoughts, dropping his head back in unmistakable invitation.
Bella doesn't hesitate, decorating his throat in open-mouthed kisses and punishing nips as his palms close fully over her hips to usher to movement of their bodies into a seamless, ever-intense rocking motion that serves their mutual need - pushing them both closer to the edge of oblivion that they chase in a series of gasping mewls and male growls of satisfaction. One of those rocking movements presses against her pubic bone perfectly and she whimpers, curling over his body as heat races through her body -
Her lips find the marks she had made on her mate, and then her teeth sink into his skin, a well of venom of blood seeping into her mouth as she shudders over him, caught in a whirlwind of clenching muscles and tingling nerves. The little death, she thinks, swallowing once and then extracting her fangs, lapping at her marks as Edward's fingers do their best to gouge bone-deep bruises into her flesh of her bottom while he thrusts against her, snarling his release.
She moves her mouth to the hinge of his jaw, kissing him softly, tenderly, breathlessly.
Their satiated, heavy breaths fill the dark room.
There is no regret.
o.o.o
o.o.o
Mele returns a week after her departure with five golden-eyed vampires in tow - vampires, Bella soon learns, that the Cullens consider their cousins. The Denali coven, comprised of the three blonde-haired sisters Tanya, Kate, and Irina, and headed by the dark-haired mated couple Eleazar and Carmen.
Introductions are made efficiently by Mele, who is not deterred by the desire to discuss frivolous topics. She merely points the members of the coven out to Bella, and then explains that Eleazar has been brought to consult with Mele on the particulars of Bella's gift. Doing her best to keep in line with Mele's no-nonsense attitude, Bella dutifully follows Mele and Eleazar into the backyard mere moments after the Denali coven arrives - she does notice, however, that Edward, the Cullens, and the new guests follow in curiosity.
"Might I have a demonstration?" Eleazar asks once everyone has arranged themselves in a loose circle. He is a good-looking man with stunning bone structure, his olive complexion oddly pallid but doing nothing to take away from the kindness of his features. Eleazar clasps his hands behind his back, brow furrowed attentively as Bella touches Mele, and then Edward to demonstrate the way her touch telepathy works.
She drops her hand, tucking it into the sleeve of Edward's navy cardigan while Mele turns to Eleazar expectantly. "Did I not tell you that it was more complex than Aro's gift?"
Eleazar tilts his head. "So you did say, Mele," he responds after a moment. Then, he smiles genially at Bella. "My, but you do remind me of your great-great-grandfather. The same bearing, I believe. A sense of duty."
"Speak plainly," Mele orders sternly. "Is there something more, or not?"
"Always business with you," Eleazar complains mildly, inciting a round of laughter from both of the covens with the exception of Bella, who is waiting with a heavy stomach.
Edward's grip curves over her shoulders, acting as an anchor as he takes up his customary position at her back. "I didn't catch that thought," he says to Eleazar. "You're very good at occluding."
Eleazar bows his head. "A habit of being in close quarters with a telepath for so long, I'm afraid. Forgive me, Isabella, for the delay. I am simply unsure of how to word your abilities."
"There is more than one?" she asks with surprise.
Eleazar smiles. "Well, of course. The absorption, of course, but also the double-shield…"
He goes on to explain that Bella's gift has a few default settings, as it were - the first is touch telepathy, which takes only surface thoughts unless she wishes otherwise, and the second is a double-shield that works mainly to keep her protected from absorbing the world - and gifts - around her automatically and to keep the first gift in check. Because her first gift, the ability to absorb thoughts, is much more than it seems. If Bella wanted to, she could absorb an entire mind, an entire gift, and most worryingly, the entire energy of a person - like she had instinctively tried to do with James.
"Like a psychic vampire," she murmurs, thinking of that dark insidious part of her mind that is locked so tightly away, that hungers even now, a vicious shadow that has been caged for her entire life.
The shields, then, are sort of like failsafe measures; the main shield is permanent around her mind, locking away the shadow in her mind, while the secondary shield stops her from inadvertently absorbing too much and, as a secondary function, also protects her from gifts that operate on the mental level, like Edward's.
"A perfect mixture of Aro and Mele's gifts," Eleazar muses. "Very interesting and quite powerful. I've never seen anything like it. You're quite the force -"
"But I could hurt people," Bella interjects, wringing her hands together as her quick mind flashes to the ramifications of such a power. "I mean, I could really hurt someone - just with a touch."
"Shh, love," Edward soothes, pulling her into his arms, where she presses her face against his chest and does her best to calm the rattle of her lungs, breath coming to fast as the full weight of her gifts send her reeling.
She's been so lucky to not have killed someone. Bella could have thoughtlessly drained the energy from her mother or father - or from Edward - or her grandparents - an innocent -
"Well, I think it's fucking cool," Emmett says loudly. "You're like a real vampire! Fangs and everything, even metaphorical ones!"
"You idiot," Rosalie chides, rapping him on the back of the head. "Can't you see that she's upset?"
"I know how that feels," says a new voice - Kate, the only gifted sister-vampire. "You've kind of got the opposite of my gift, actually. See, I have too much energy and I just go around zapping people."
"Bella, dear, I'm sure you can control it," Esme offers as she steps away from Carlisle, rubbing soothingly at Bella's back. "You haven't hurt anyone yet, have you?"
Almost, Bella thinks - she'd done it instinctively. Twice, now, she's realizing. James and that man in Port Angeles. But thinking of that does calm her down, because the part of her gift that is scaring her, the insidious hunger gnawing for psychic energy in the back of her mind, seems to be only defensive. And that's a good thing.
Jasper must realize it at the same time that she does, because he says with a great deal of pragmatism, "If she can learn to control it, then it seems to me that we've got ourselves a nice secret weapon."
Edward growls. "My mate is not a nuclear bomb you can drop over Hiroshima."
"Isn't she?"
All eyes snap to Alice - all in utter shock that it had been sweet, excitable Alice to say such a outright callous remark. But then, it's immediately evident that Alice isn't all there at the moment, her gaze flung far-off, sightless as she watches the future. Alice nods slowly, then turns her head vaguely in Edward and Bella's direction.
"You see, don't you?" Alice asks.
Edward's chest rumbles in response, an unhappy sound - and Bella reaches up, slipping her hand to the nape of his neck and receiving the full impact of the fizzy visions - images that rapidly clear as Bella discovers their brilliance - that Alice is replaying over and over in her mind.
"That could work," she murmurs.
No, Edward argues, lips twitching away from his teeth as he redirects his growl to her.
You'll be with me every step of the way, she assures them and then without taking her gaze off her fiercely protective mate, she asks, "Right, Alice?"
And Alice's visions whir to accommodate this new decision, the images crystal clear with vitality and certainty. "Oh, that's even better," says Alice.
See?
Edward is still tense at the very thought of throwing Bella headfirst into battle, even if he was right there at her side, but he must sense that she has set her mind to this course and will not be moved by anything less than a logical argument - which Edward cannot come up with no matter how hard he tries. After all, each new decision he makes increases the likelihood of failure until he too is forced to admit that the best chance of survival - and elimination of Victoria's threat - has already been found.
He sets his jaw. "Fine," he agrees tersely.
Bella kisses the underside of his chin, a silent apology that they must all do what is required of them, no matter how distasteful. Then she turns, tuning back into the conversation that had been happening around them, not at all surprised to learn that Jasper has begun advocating for Bella to receive specialized training from Eleazar on how to control her gift because, "There ain't no way I'm sendin' in that girl without bein' sure her hide remains intact."
"It will be arranged," Mele declares tonelessly.
"Of course," Eleazar agrees, wrapping his arm around Carmen. "It would be my honest delight to aid our family in this endeavor."
"Yes, I agree," Tanya says brightly, stepping forward with her sisters at each elbow. They are each quite beautiful - enough to rival Rosalie - but Bella does not feel threatened, due in no small part to Edward's honesty that it had been Tanya that had talked him into returning to Forks in October, something that the strawberry-blonde vampire did not have to do, especially with her unabashed interest in Edward at the time. Still touching his skin, she can read from Tanya's thoughts that her previous romantic interest has faded into a sisterly regard. There is nothing Tanya respects more than love and Bella cannot fault her for trying to find love in Edward before Bella was part of the picture.
"You can count me in," Kate adds boldly, tossing a wink at Bella. "I might be able to offer my services for my newest cousin's training."
Irina nods. "My mate has involved himself in this, so I will help in any way I can, as well."
And that is how their forces against Victoria's army swells from eight vampires and three wolves to thirteen vampires and three wolves - and how the second half of May breaks away into a series of tactical maneuvers, nights of training, and falling into exhausted slumber in the arms of her mate as she discovers that even vampires have limitations.
o.o.o
o.o.o
"Precious," Aro says stridently as he finally returns communication from Volterra, relaying the Volturi decision without aplomb. "You will be pleased, I am sure, to know that the arrival of a select guard to be deployed at your sole discretion."
And even as he says it, Bella knows that this is a test for her as much as it is designed to be assistance. Aro is leaving the commanding of his guard to her so that the Volturi Kings, her family, can judge how effective she is in leading and in eliminating threats. Part of her is irked by this blatant examination, but another part cedes that not only is there nothing she can do about it, but also that something like this would have happened eventually - and it might as well happen now, when she is already being stress-tested.
So she only says, "Thank you, Grandfather."
o.o.o
o.o.o
Alice manages to corner Bella one night before they all traipse out to the baseball field where they have been training for the better part of a week - and of all things, Alice wants to talk about prom.
"Prom?" Bella repeats with a frown. "Alice, I think there are more important things to be thinking about right now. I'll have a hundred proms, I'm sure."
Alice isn't deterred, however, which isn't all that surprising because it has come to Bella's attention that Alice very rarely hears the word no - a perk of being psychic. There is a gleam in her eye that Bella has come to recognize, though, and she braces herself for the inevitable manipulation as she scrapes her hair into a high ponytail. Alice doesn't disappoint, bouncing on her toes gleefully.
"But Charlie won't get to see you go to a hundred proms, will he?"
All things considered, it's a bit of a low blow to point out that her father has still steadfastly refused to join her eternal life - but it does appeal to the daughter in Bella that has been lost under the stress of the Victoria situation and all the new roles that she has begun to embrace. Charlie would enjoy the experience, just as any father would. It would reassure him that Bella could be happy in this life and that is more than enough motivation to change her mind.
"Fine," she sighs, ignoring Alice's squeal of excitement. "Do whatever you want as long as it doesn't take away from Mele and Eleazar's training schedule - or Jasper's, because you'll have to deal with his grumpy face, not me."
o.o.o
o.o.o
Darling Granddaughter,
As my husband has finally reached a decision that the brothers may all be satisfied with, I am sending along the records you asked for in the company of the Volturi Guard - do not be intimidated by the size of the carrier, sweetling. However, pending their arrival, I fervently hope that you will maintain your safety in such a precarious, dangerous situation.
My heart beholden to you,
Your Grandmother Sulpicia
o.o.o
o.o.o
Major Jasper Whitlock is a fearsome vampire covered in a hundred different scars that prove just how hard he is to kill and with a reputation like that at his back, it is not surprising at all that - with the exception of Mele - they all defer to his tactician mind and the ruthless training methods that he employs as he whips the Quileute pack and all of the vampires into shape. Jasper's drive to ensure survival is a beast all its own and one that Bella learns from fastidiously.
Emmett and Rosalie fake sick at the start of the final week of May to get out of school and they are sent off to Seattle to keep tabs on the situation and try to meet up with Laurent to gather the intel he has collected. It is not an unusual activity for either vampire, as Rosalie's headstrong attitude and Emmett's sheer size had long-served the Cullen coven to scaring away nomads from Cullen territories. Knowing that does very little to ease Bella's concern that something would go wrong, but even Edward is confident in Jasper's gamble and at the end of the day, Bella doesn't have enough experience to suggest a different way.
And so, instead, she learns how to fight newborns. She eats more dirt than she cares to think about - but so do the wolves as they learn the right way to fight vampires. Instincts only go so far, according to Jasper, and newborns are a different kind of hellion.
Training with Eleazar under Mele's supervision is worse, though. Truly exhausting as Mele continues to push and push and push and as Eleazar seems to view the entire exercise as some kind of science experiment. The truth of the matter is that her ability to absorb has been set to a self-imposed default for so long that she has to battle against herself to take in more than she is used to.
Kate is helpful in this - her unlimited energy, the electricity that she calls forth to bubble through the nerves of her opponent as an offensive gift, is bait enough that Bella is able to force herself to absorb the energy or else suffer a seriously annoying series of stings over her skin.
It is slow-going, learning how to drain and absorb more than just thoughts, but it is much, much easier than learning how to control her second gift. Bella finds that manipulating either of her shields is somewhat akin to flaying the skin from her bones - unnatural and, in the case of the second shield that has caged the vicious hunger in her mind, deeply painful. The shields have been part of her for so long that they have grown tight and it is the true challenge of her training to make those shields permeable at will.
More than once - to the surprise of all the vampires - Bella's nose bleeds as she pushes against the long-standing limitations of her gifts. She always wipes the venom-tinged copper away with the back of her wrist, ready and willing to try again. She'll acclimate. She always has in the past and this is more important than ever.
o.o.o
o.o.o
Prom Night falls on one of the last days in May and Bella can honestly say that the most she remembers from the preparation is the steam of a curling iron being taken to her hair as Rosalie stacks her locks into some complicated, twisty up-do and Alice helping with the pearl buttons lining the spine of the Prussian blue silk-and-tulle dress that is almost definitely designer and clings to Bella's body with a sweetheart neckline. Admittedly, her mind is a million miles away - she's distracted enough that she doesn't even remember to pick out a book to take to the silly dance.
Charlie's reaction - gruff compliments and watery eyes - brings her back to the present and away from the swirling anxiety that has gripped her for the better part of the month. She smiles for the pictures that Alice takes, snug in Edward's embrace with pretty lilacs tied with ribbon onto her wrist.
Bella is glad that Alice talked her into this - she's proud to give this memory to her father. Here is Bella, going to prom just like a normal teenager, and for those moments while she is posing for the obligatory prom photos, it's as if the weight of the world rolls right off her shoulders. She busses a kiss to Charlie's cheek as she leaves, tottering on the midnight blue heels that Alice had selected, perhaps a touch too high but acquiescing to Bella's request that her ankles be covered; the stiletto heel is paired with silky ribbons that wrap over the tops of her feet and halfway to her calf, a bow right over each ankle.
"You look good, kid," says Charlie, clearing his throat and pretending that he isn't choked up with emotion.
Bella's lips stretch into the first genuine smile she's had in a long while. "I'll be home by curfew," she promises.
Charlie levels a minute glare at Edward, who bows his head mostly to hide his smirk. "You better."
If pressed, Bella couldn't tell anyone what the theme of the prom was supposed to be - there is an awful lot of sea green and shimmering lights and enough vases and fishbowls full of water that she supposes they are supposed to be Under The Sea. It doesn't matter, though, because Bella is allowed hours in her mate's arms dancing to vaguely romantic music without the obligation of Victoria's conflict pulling her mind in a different direction. She winds her arms around his neck, tipping onto her toes as their lips meet, the crooning of a male singer slipping through the background.
I'm glad we did this, she tells him.
Edward smiles, fitting her firmly against his chest with one of his hands almost indecently low on her back. I love you.
She kisses him again, pushing all of her emotions at him with the gentle control that she has gained from her most recent bout of training. They don't need words; they never did. Around them, the world falls away. Is this the point of going to a dance? Bella thinks that it is - and there isn't anything more wonderful than spinning around a room in Edward's arms, safe and sound and resplendent with affection.
He takes her home in his ridiculously, flamboyantly fancy car - a Martin something in the shade of silver that he seems to prefer with low seats that send the skirt of her dress drifting up on her thighs unless she holds the fabric in place. Bella lets the skirt flutter halfway to her knees, lips curving with satisfaction as Edward's topaz gaze follows the line of her legs rather than the lines of the road ahead.
"You're dangerous," he declares, clenching his jaw while she laughs at him.
But then his expression - which had been facetiously admonishing - changes and she sits up alertly, peering out the window as he pulls up to the Swan household. The front lawn is clear, but Edward's eyes are fixated on the forest lining the backyard and a flash of weariness settles over her skin.
Is this it, then? For all their planning, for all that strategy, are they out of time?
Three figures step out of the shadows, each of them cloaked in deep charcoal, and the largest lugging what looks like a wooden crate in front of him - red eyes glint from beneath hoods and moonlight catches on an achingly familiar insignia. These are the Volturi guards sent by Aro.
Bella waits for Edward to help her out of the car, more for his benefit than for hers so that he has a reason to lock their fingers together and position his body before hers as they walk forward to meet the figures halfway, all done at a human pace. Bella knows that Edward doesn't trust these new vampires, but not because he doesn't trust the Volturi - because he can read their minds and he detects three very different flavors regarding their current assignment. The big one - Felix - is affable, while the leaner one - Dimitri - is rather bored at the moment. Edward could care less about them, though, because they aren't the danger.
The girl - Jane - is the truly gifted one and there is a degree of sadism that is always in her thoughts, enough so that even if her orders are to harm only those who harm Bella, it makes Edward leery that she cannot be controlled by a decree so far outside of Aro's influence. Jane is mildly resentful that she is being loaned out to some half-human, but that doesn't stop the platinum-blonde from dropping her hood to reveal her youthful face. Jane couldn't have been bitten a day before she turned fifteen; she looks as young as Alice, even with the timelessness that all vampires seem to possess.
Jane tilts her head, smiling cold and saccharine. "How sweet of you to dress up for me."
o.o.o
o.o.o
That is May.
A/N: I'm just going to go take a really, really well-deserved break. This chapter should have been two, really, but I decided against it because it would mess with the entire idea of having one-chapter-per-month in the story timeline, with the transformation chapter being a stand-alone interlude. So instead, you all got this hulking beast instead, plus a bit of a cliffy! Yay!
In writing this chapter, I killed a bag of pita chips and gummy worms (on individual days). Their sacrifice is much appreciated!
As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.
~cupcakeriot