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CHAPTER 12

CONFRONTATION

Rosalie knew something was off the second the house—or the driveway rather—came into view. For one thing, there were long sweeping tire marks on the ground, which meant that someone—most likely Carlisle—had skidded to a swerving stop near the front steps.

Concerned, Rosalie gradually engaged the break, and lowered the window. She hadn't imagined it; there was a faint smell of motor oil in the air. Scanning the ground, Rosalie spotted the viscous liquid, droplets that began at a small puddle near the front steps, trailing all the way to the closed garage.

With her car now at a stop, Rosalie put her BMW in park, and turned off the ignition. With a press of a button, she activated the garage door, and warily exited her car.

As the door rose on a sluggish whir, Rosalie recognized the Mercedes' 16-spoke light-alloy wheels. The rest of Carlisle's vehicle, however, was covered in a tarp.

What in God's name…

Throwing a worried glance at the house, Rosalie entered the garage, and yanked the tarp away from the car.

"Oh, hell no." Her nostrils flared even as fear coiled in her gut. "Son of a…"

If the car had been dented from the outside, Rosalie would have reasoned that someone had smashed into it. But that wasn't what she saw. The Mercedes had been destroyed alright, but not from the outside. Clearly, a pissed off vampire had done this. And this being Carlisle's car, well…

No longer bothering with human speed, Rosalie dropped the tarp and hurried into the house.

Following her sire's scent, she tracked him to the living-room beside the kitchen, where he was sitting in profile, his elbows resting on his knees, his head cradled in his hands.

His feet were bare, she noted, and his damp hair fell over his brow in messy waves. As she stopped by the island, taking in his dark blue V-neck t-shirt and loose-fitting jeans, Rosalie had to suppress her trepidation.

In the eighty-two years since her transformation, she had witnessed many moods in Carlisle—from quiet joy after saving a life at work, to the worry he had often born toward Edward, even the air of loneliness that always clung to him—but never had she seen him quite like this.

At present, Carlisle had the outward appearance of a man who was utterly broken. A picture of regret if ever there was one. Because she had never been comfortable with heart-to-hearts, Rosalie reacted by hardening her features. In lieu of gently feeling out the reason behind his actions and mood, she opted for bluntness instead. "I saw you punched your car."

At this, he gave a sigh, and met her gaze at long last. "I did."

"Do you mind telling me why?" Yeah, Rosalie was pissed about the car, but her fear was greater than her anger at this point.

"I committed a grave error in judgement, Rose." His blond head fell forward again. As he toyed with his ring, her sire and brother whispered, "A royal fuck up."

Rosalie's jaw went slack. She blinked. Holy shit. Carlisle had said a curse word. He had dropped an actual F-bomb. But… he never swears, she marvelled in quiet horror.

Whatever this was, it was serious.

"What'd you do, Carlisle?" she asked as alarm bells rang through her mind.

Heaving a cheerless breath, he stared at the floor for a moment. Then, with a wretched expression on his face, Carlisle met her eyes and finally told her what he had done.

"This is unbelievable. Out of the three of us, I never thought you'd be the one to pull something like this."

Rosalie was pacing the living-room, the hem of her long chiffon blouse billowing in her wake.

"I'm sorry. Rose, I—"

"No." She whirled to face him, pointing a finger at his face when she seethed. "You don't get to apologize right now. Because right now, we have to get the hell out of here." Mouth set in a line, Rosalie turned and left the room at vampire speed.

"Wait!"

When Carlisle caught up with her in the garage, Rosalie was retrieving their go bags.

"I can't believe this," she muttered to herself as she opened the zipper to reveal wads of cash and the various IDs they kept inside. "Barely a year into our current lives and we have to move again."

"Rosalie—"

But she was already moving, re-entering the house at wind-inducing speed.

"Hey, will you wait a minute?" Carlisle raced after her as she went to retrieve their laptops from their home office. "We are not leaving just yet," he stated from the doorway, and saw the disbelief on her angelic face.

"She knows, Carlisle. She has to." With that, Rosalie brushed past him again, and made for the upper level of the house. "Maybe she won't be able to put a name to what you are, but she definitely knows you're not normal."

They were in her room now, a space he wasn't used to being in. Smothering his discomfort, Carlisle said, "But if she doesn't say anything—"

Once again, his companion interrupted him. By chuckling. As incredulous laughter bubbled in her throat, Rosalie shook her head. "Are you really willing to risk our lives over that gamble? She's the police chief's daughter for crying out loud! What if she tells him, huh? What then? The Volturi could have our asses for this. You and me. And maybe even Edward." Tossing her things on a sofa, she grabbed a suitcase from the closet and started shoving clothes into it. "Fuck this."

Carlisle clenched his teeth, for anger had welled within him, eroding the last of his patience. "I am the leader of this coven and you will listen to me!"

Silence engulfed the room. He was as stunned as she looked. Indeed, the last time Carlisle had raised his voice and asserted his dominance in such a way, Rosalie had been a vengeful and nearly uncontrollable newborn.

To gain mastery over his rioting emotions, he lowered his gaze to the white area rug. Maybe Rosalie was right. Maybe the wisest course would be to bail right now. But the idea of leaving filled him with such panic and dread, Carlisle had little choice but to hearken to his intuition.

"I recognize my mistake," he offered at length, his tone softening once more. "And I acknowledge the risks I've been taking of late. But if Isabella doesn't say anything, there's no reason why we couldn't stay in Forks." Enjoying several more years before their lack of aging forced them to move elsewhere. "All I'm asking for is a few days. To feel things out and see if we really need to move or not."

Please, he almost begged but didn't. As coven leader, he wouldn't.

After a few endless seconds, Rosalie crossed her arms. "Very well. But for all of our sakes, I hope her silence is not wishful thinking."

Carlisle released the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. "Thank you, Rose. I'll take one of the jeeps. I'll drive by the hospital and the police station this afternoon. I'll stop and listen in to see if anyone is talking about us."

"What about the chief's daughter? Are you going to drive by her house, too?" There was no mistaking the silent warning in her tone.

His dead heart growing heavier in his chest, Carlisle answered that he wouldn't. "I won't go near her house."

As guarded as she was, Rosalie seemed relieved to hear it. "I'll need her address."

Carlisle went tense all of a sudden, a protective growl threatening to escape his tightening chest. "Why do you need her address?"

"I won't drop in for a visit, if that's what you're thinking. I just want to listen in, make sure she isn't gabbing to her father or her friends about the strange man who growled at her last night."

Seeing the lingering concern on his face, Rosalie assuaged his fears by saying, "She won't know I'm there. I promise."

Now it was his turn to relent. "Alright."

After relaying the address, Carlisle had turned and was halfway out the door when his companion spoke again. "Why'd you do it?"

Facing her once more, he waited for her to elaborate. She did.

"You're the most disciplined vampire I know. Hell, you resisted draining your own singer." A slight frown marred her forehead, her voice noticeably softer when she said, "So then my question is why? Knowing what she was to you, why didn't you stay away afterward? Why did you have to spend all that extra time with her? Are you drawn to her or something?"

His silence must have confirmed it, for Rosalie's eyes widened. "That's it, isn't it? You have a thing for her. Carlisle, she's human. You can't."

His frozen heart seized, and he opened his mouth to speak, to say, "Don't you think I know that?" but the words never had a chance to form, for a sound was filtering through the exterior wall, intruding on their conversation. A hurried pattering of paws from way out in the forest. At first, the rhythmic rustle was quite faint, but then it got louder and louder, making it clear that the animals were headed straight for their house.

As they both realized what this meant, Carlisle and Rosalie shared a panicked look before hastening outside. Standing on their front steps, they watched the surrounding woods until a familiar stench reached their noses. That of wet dog. More than one.

"Wolves," was all Rosalie said. With an accusing glance at Carlisle, she squared her shoulders toward the woods. The growl she gave heightened the crackling tension in the air. They waited.

Since Charlie Swan was close with some of the Quileutes, they both assumed that Bella has said something about what had happened last night, and now the Wolves were on their way to issue a warning or settle the score. Hoping for the former, Carlisle watched the forest, and placed a hand on Rosalie's forearm. "If they want to talk, let them. We don't attack first."

No sooner had these words left his mouth, than three large wolves came into view. As they wove their way between the trees, their pace slowing to a wary prowl, the furry beasts fixed their eyes on Carlisle and Rosalie. With teeth bared, they emerged from the forest, and came to a stop near the edge of the driveway. The middle one—the largest of the three—had a reddish coat and a mean snarl. Out of the three wolves, he was the only one to un-phase. Before doing so, however, he moved behind Rosalie's BMW, which earned him an answering growl from the blond vampire.

Recalling the night the shape-shifters had showed up in the hospital parking lot, Carlisle immediately recognize the man's face. It was Jacob Black.

Bending at the waist, he seemed to be donning pants. It was then that Carlisle noticed that the other wolves had denim packages attached to their back legs. Not packages, he realized, but rolled up pairs of denim shorts or pants.

"Hello," Carlisle stated warily. "What brings you out here this morning?"

As the two remaining wolves growled in response, Jacob, who was clearly the leader of the pack, stepped out from behind Rosalie's vehicle. Indeed, he was now wearing knee-length shorts, his features hard and uncompromising when he said, "Didn't you hear? Someone was snatched behind the Thriftway last night."

Though relieved that the wolves weren't here because of Bella, Carlisle was deeply troubled nonetheless. Exchanging a puzzled and worried glance with Rosalie, he answered, "This is news to us. We had not heard of this."

"Is that so?" Jacob crossed his arms in front of his muscled chest. "You know it's funny, when we went to have a look, there was vamp stench all over the area."

If Carlisle and Rosalie had had a pulse, and actual blood running through their veins, their faces would have blanched by several shades. Because they were living amongst humans, having a rogue vampire in the area could cause a mess for them.

With a cautious but nonthreatening posture, Carlisle said, "I assure you, if there was a vampire hunting behind the Thriftway, it wasn't us." When he looked at Rosalie, she confirmed his assertion with a terse nod of her head.

But Jacob didn't seem convinced. "So you say."

Rosalie scoffed at this. "And here I thought dogs had a good sense of smell. Go on, Fido."

"Easy, Rose," Carlisle warned at the same time.

But Rosalie was undaunted, her steely gaze fixed on Jacob when she said, "Take a whiff. I guarantee you that the scent doesn't match ours."

The wolves snapped their teeth at that. The black one even took a threatening step forward. But Jacob took Rosalie up on her challenge. His nostrils flaring, he sniffed the air a few times, and ultimately conceded her point with a grudging nod.

"Fine." Jacob flexed his jaw. "But remember the rules. If one of you steps out of line, you're both dead. Oh wait…" Now he breathed a sardonic laugh. "I forgot. You already are."

With that, he turned and leapt, his body contorting as he burst into wolf form. Because he hadn't bothered to remove his shorts, the denim garment ripped and fell to the ground in tattered pieces.

And just like that, as quickly as they had arrived, the wolves were gone, the sound of their racing paws dwindling in the distance.

"Well, this day just went from bad to worse," Rosalie said in the ensuing silence. Her high heels clicking as she went, the blond retreated into the house with a clipped, "Fantastic."

So here was chapter 12. Sorry it's a shorter chapter. Initially, I had wanted to include Bella's POV in it, but because I haven't had as much writing time this week, I figured I would give you these scenes to read. Next, we'll catch up with Bella and her trip to La Push.

To all who have been following this story, thanks for giving it a chance. As always, reviews are much appreciated. Favs and follows are awesome, too.

Until next time!

CygnusRift